Annie Bien
Unsettled Atmospheric Pressure
When lightning strikes,
clarity shines bright -
too soon, too soon,
clouds blow in
and muddy mind.
Huddled Ear to Ear
I open the tin.
Purple tissue wraps
a rectangular form
soft to touch.
This could be sand
or dirt from the garden.
A tag tied by wire
girdles the shape.
I unwind the trimmings.
A plastic bag holds nuggets
and granules, strong scent
of burnt bones. The name
scrawled on cardstock
is your name. But all this,
this is not all of you.
How I smiled when we huddled ear to ear
coming in from the cold.
© Annie Bien
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