Terri Lynn Cummings
we had climbed the tall ladder
loving a child
never intended to live
long enough
Reveled in ho-hum hours
stroked each exquisite breath
cherished the energy of life
until it fled
Moved on without judgment
like ants without purpose
ambiguous as a sigh
suspended like a traveler
on the summit
stunned by the fall
of darkness, surprised
by the dawn of survival.
Poet’s Notes: The anniversary of our deceased son’s
birthday loomed. He had departed eight years before, but his gravity pulled us
toward his orbit. I wrote. I had written about him and of our loss, year after
year. And each time, for a moment or two, I heard his ribboning laughter.
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