Your right decision landed like a shipwreck.
Words draped
breathless
on the rocks,
their beggar’s ribs protruding,
and
your body doubled
over
with the shock
of
new integrity.
Still, when you had finished it
you thrummed
the way you always do
when dissonance
resolves.
The right owe no apologies,
and yet
in grace you planted
fragrant gardens
for remembrance.
Here,
on the other side of
yes
the bells toll
never ceasing
for the lost.
But now and then
we raise
our heads
and catch the smell of
flowers
on the air.
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