Guilty Grievers (1998)

It is Springtime

You are four months dead

Our Son is doing better

He misses you

And takes it out on everyone who loves him.

Your mother drinks

To drown the image of your charred body from her memory.

Surely she remembers the years

She taught you so eloquently to hate her

To fear women

Yet need them so desperately to be what she never was.

Surely she blames herself.

It is Springtime

You are four months dead

This was the time of years you like to make love outdoors

You reached and I gave

But it was never enough

It is Springtime

And I have guilt of my own

I miss you, my Love

 

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