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Posts Tagged ‘suicide’

 

 

 

Before the sadness comes the shock,

like snow falling on sunflowers,

like nightfall at noon. And then

the tears catch up. And then

the wondering, What could I have done?

The urge to hold her now that I cannot.

The ache to hold her daughter, to hold

her son the way that she once held

my children when they were young.

What is there to do now but cradle

each other, to cry, to recover, and again

to shudder, to cry. To say to each other

that this day it hurts to be alive.

To notice that despite grief,

the larkspur are in full blue.

The river curls notes around the rocks.

The bees immerse their bodies

in snapdragon blooms.

How it’s never been more important

to know this—that the world

is beautiful. That even as we’re held

by tragedy, here is tenderness.

Here, always waiting to be opened,

the invitation to love.

 

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I am sorry to be so deep, he says,

his voice broken. The shade

pools around us as we speak.

 

He tells me of his surgeries,

then notes the gold in the leaves.

My teacher, he says, he took his life.

 

I wonder at the light that seems

to infuse the difficult words.

He was my hero, he says.

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When you stand on the ledge
six stories above the street,

you are perhaps lost, but
there is not a lot a map can tell you.

There is back in the window,
and there is down.

What is it that keeps you
from jumping.

You wouldn’t even need to jump.
Just trip. Lean. Step. Or if you sneeze,

it could be considered an accident.
Somehow easier that way to imagine it,

but how to explain the fact that you
climbed through the pane

out onto the railingless edge.
Someone would have to clean up

the splatter. That thought
is enough to hold you here,

back against the brick.
It’s not that you want to die.

Below, the cars crisscross and merge.
But how to go on living.

Beneath you the ravens weave.

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