October is

We sit together
on the front steps of her house-
old friends, chosen sisters.
We look for words of comfort,
we find each other.

I miss my parents,
she misses her mother-
just weeks apart,
just weeks ago.
What draws us together
is the quiet of this night.
Our prayers, tears and rants are gone…
I think
They’re settling on the branches and leaves-
glistening in the porch light.

Trees are never this still…
I think.
Neither are hearts,
but mine feels as though it’s
holding its breath
against something glass-cut
and coiled like barbed wire.

I’m numb now,
and grateful for it…
I think.
Finally I can be.

It doesn’t last long,
numb never does.

“Will they say that about me” I ask,
“that I was full of life?”
And then, much later I whisper,
“will it be true?”

October is an unsure time.

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