Calamity can oblige so quickly.

Hanging like dust particles in the still air.

There are bleak moments when disappointments arrive…

as, mine to encircle.

A tug of war between light and dark.

The ceremony, on the whole, becomes a magical affair.

Bloated spirits linger above the home for the dead.

And, with the push of misaligned whispers, I am an infant prisoner…once again.

Prepared, willing and able, to hand disappointment down to the next of kin.