A lot of people will write about her, I know
she was not only mine.
We are sad we are grieving
a community bands together.

My anger is macabre inappropriate:
when her light turned out, she turned out several others.
My dearest friend:
empty gas lamp.

Trying to relight is against a tempest
and sequestered in despair,
with internal lighter fluid drained
our marrow dry as dust.

(the real truth of it all is much harder to swallow
than the news story you heard)