Never Part
Christine's rescue horse, Light,
got the first wadge of my anguish
into his thick mane;
the road home
(to make a police report for a burglary)
had to put up with stopped car for outbursts;
then, the hours in the months
under the thatch
were saturated at times.
I've been told there's no end
to grief, even though
by now I've been so utterly shook
I was thinking
maybe I can go now,
on, you know, somewhere,
somewhere on, some place
of innocence, free of these grabs
at my heart. But
apparently not.
Apparently grief and my soul
will never part.
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