It's Still Life

“Maybe all losses before this one are practice,”
– from Our Lady of Perpetual Loss by Deborah Miranda

 
It’s a New Beginning

I heard a robin sing last night,
to windswept leaves lost in dark,
to the moon bright as skin,
and ghostly clouds pressing light.

There in new beginnings, where
I left my scuffed days behind,
left the remains of yesterday,
to the rootless thunder.

It’s a new beginning. A day
for stopping clouds,
for tying them into knots
and anchoring them to loss.

My father died ten years ago.
I say goodbye every day. It’s
how I start a new beginning.

written for Poetic Bloomings July 5: The Beginning © Misky 2016