You give me word friends
touchpoints to give feelings tangible boundaries
walls for my grief to bounce off and imprint
on me in the reverberations
with visible faultlines and shapes.
Thank you for sharing your archaeological finds
as you comb through what's left behind
in crumpled receipts takeout containers
collections of unclean hair knotted and balled
cotton buds and empty crisp packets
fewer wine bottles no more ice cream tubs
orange peels stale bread milk cartons
-- translating bottomless sadness
in lyric and steady tempo
each syllable is a treasure.