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by Nancy Diamante Bonazzoli

You have died, and now
my entire yearning
with its enormity
like a stone to a mountain
steadfast, shadowless
with all who surround it
in heartbreak and in bleak despair.

Where do all of the deaths live
that we don’t comprehend?

When I sit and dwell
in the space that once held you
soft and warm, I know
from whence I was born
though not to what you have returned.

What is it that lies
between yesterday and today?

Oh mercy!
Gone is the light by which my heart was read.
And in its place?

Copyright © 2020 by Nancy Diamante Bonazzoli

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