I know his-
and my son, his own-
strength.

there is no breaking of bread, no beauty
the eye
can carry.

maybe
when you visit
we are away
on heaviness.

god
in that
children’s book
was given
to rising
early- so much prayer- just three

families
in the world
when one prayed
he hear
only
theirs.

healing is not a story the limping enter.  

who writes about death
writes
to return
the trespass.