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for the mama’s who
have had to bury tomorrow &
go on without it’s promise
for women who have placed
a piece of themselves
in a box & buried it
six feet under ground
burned it placed in in an urn
brought it home
sitting on porches
looking for a reason
backs straight
faces crumbled
no light in the eyes
the temple is open
but the lights are burned
out nights are longer
corners and empty rooms
speak inanimate objects take
on life nothing is as it was or
will ever be again time stops
hearts still beat trees lose leaves
spring returns but the footsteps
you recognized in your sleep
are silent forever
I pray you peace