You call her weekly to get news
of family remains; she's familiar
with your craving, your raving
She knows your habits of the heart,
where the mind hides, where a body
goes to get away from itself, or tries
So today you call and hear thanks for
the words mailed, then she surprises
with this, They're just so sad
Her allusion's to the wording celebrating
a brother's death, January 1995, precise day
unknown, and memory weighs heavy on her
There's no statute of limitations on hurting
and if you want to say the moment matters,
today that barely matters, but just the point
Today, there's pain, pain's moment, that's not
going anywhere, so you listen and go with her
to that place not to be denied
You feel no sorrow there but you feel alive
there and you notice in the shadow of death
a clearing deep, broad, momentous
