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.
