tonight, I watched a woman crumple in an aisle of the grocery store,
phone on the floor, holding a box of apple jacks in one hand
& weeping into the other.
nobody likes to think about leaving flowers on a grave,
carving a name into stone & blowing a kiss to the sky
to keep from fading with the sunset.
water drips down our backs & the woman presses a hand
to a shoulder she doesn’t know: begs for a prayer &
forgiveness. this is how i relearn the Lords Prayer.
my heart shatters into 99 prayer beads. a mother
should never have to bury her son. i am sorry
i don’t know either of their names.
no one kneels for what comes before the storm:
knees only bleed on the altar after
the rain falls.
the woman’s husband rows a flood of grief
all the way to the parking lot. i can’t
stand to watch them drown.
all my teeth are aching & my shoes are wet.
the sound of her heart cracking
keeps echoing in my head.
Poem 29 of 30