The Bereaved
Ugly, lined faces. A grimy rain coming
down. The world is behaving in ways
that just a short while ago I wouldn’t
have thought possible. A rectangular
hole has been dug to regulation depth.
This is where he’ll stay. You should
squeeze your younger siblings to you,
tell everyone within shouting distance
that you love them. There’s no word
in English for a parent who’s lost a child.
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