Cold Comfort: a poem

Looking up into the sky through branches

One of the bloggers I follow, Diane Walker, posted this on April 18:

The kind words said,
The tender hands
Rest briefly on mahogany,
The hard men come
In their t-shirts and their caps
To drop you here
To rest beside the ashes
Of your love.
The die is cast,
The dirt and flowers
Thrown into the pit,
The carpet rolled away.
The wailing imprecations
Of the lost and the bereft resound,
Awakening responses in my heart
Too harsh to bear.
How does Diane end her poem?
Find out: Cold Comfort on her blog Contemplative Photography.

Image: Diane Walker on Contemplative Photography

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