For my friends
who know
the feathered thing
we call grief.
--
That day the morning hardened
And the clock stopped on the wall;
What happened had happened all of a sudden
And I could do nothing at all.
Regret flooded me
And more than just a little shame
And I wished as hard as I could
That I could sip your pain away.
"I could have"s came to mind
As I watched you mourn
separated by a gossamer shadow;
But I resign to the fact that I am not Christ,
Who alone brings hope for tomorrow.
I myself, stand here waiting,
To quietly offer what I can manage,
To receive your sorrow folded in words
And your sadness in silence packaged.