For Brian Widdows, Jaime’s daughter Kaya and Ceredwyn and Keith’s cousin
There is an infinite sadness
in certain acts that cannot be escaped
and tonight I grapple with the trifecta:
A murder, a suicide, the death of a baby
moments before it entered the world
Around me, friends reel, grieve, fume,
plant trees, hug, weep, scream, rock
— I presume. They are far away
and I am alone with infinite aches,
a deep spiraling starscape of unending.
There is no comfort in this cold place.
Only wine, and silence and little waves
of melancholy, that there is such hate
in the world, that there is such despair
in the world, that life can be so random
and steal breath from delicate souls.
Lay roses, lay lilies, lay lavender
at their gravesides. Plant seeds.