At The Deaths of Two Children
During a haunted day,
heavy grey sketched shadow corners
onto a kitchen scene complete,
where home’s Formica table,
stood as balance point surrounded.
On the sideboard,
a wooden spoon dripped slow,
resting, it’s brief battle done.
The smallest voices echoed
somewhere off, among
much
richer
flowers.
Shoulder to shoulder they sat,
deep sorrow creasing more the brow
of these familiar witnesses,
whose empty hands held coffee mugs
as anchor.
A newbie stumbled in,
head and heart at full spin.
“Oh, sweetie…”,
sang in sotto voce.
Summer froze
and everything burst together.
Robert On The Air 