Just as the last leaves on branches
in autumn fail to cast shade, so
the words we cast to fill the silence
left by one we loved never are enough.
No words are. Though a few hang in
the silence to fill a slice of absence.
Like any sound, words will
break the spell silence casts,
for a little time. And even
sometimes over again.
Words may stir the afternoon,
words forming in wan light, and
the dust motes might fall
into meaning. Words may
soothe the night’s stark quiet.
And so we carry words,
in our minds, in our hearts,
to fill the vast silence of
what it means to be alive,
which is what loss means.