
this is how death is:
the year steals a person away.
A person loved now dead
dies all that year
an especially macabre, extended party
and entirely unplanned, but that’s how death is.
Reverse “birthday week”
each days marks a day closer to a day they weren’t there at all.
Erasing them by holiday,
and by season.
By habit,
and by dynamic.
By olfactory,
and by audio.
By everything!
and by nothing,
(it just stales)
until bye and bye
it turns…
Seemingly just like that
(the mundane continuity an abomination)
a ball drops
and a heart well and truly breaks, and
> never at any point <
in that next year
will the one lost
*still be okay*
(still time!)
and that’s how realization sets in,
and that’s how loss resounds,
and that’s how death is.
©Karen Robiscoe
December 30, 2013 





Too powerful for any comments to be worthwhile – or cogent for that matter. Bye and bye..
I was cleaning, and I found an old greeting card–a handmade one…*sad smile*