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October Twenty Seventh

it’s rained all morning.
the mud clings to my boots
as angry clouds rush
past, not willing to waste
anymore water on this
saturated ground.

not willing to waste any on me.

she came into this wet
world five years ago
and left quietly
four days later.

it wasn’t raining on the day
she died. it was, in fact,
the bluest sky i’d ever seen.
on her last day,
i had held her for four hours
and the numbers on the
LED were the only thing
that told me that she’d
gone.

they announced, then left –
switched off.

and i, with my wife,
left the hospital
empty handed.

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7 thoughts on “October Twenty Seventh

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