Let loose, the limning distance
that rained light upon the catalpa
where green and verdant words befell
like sickness, the lips of those departed.
Up from the air, the whispered kisses
down from the ground, the insects hissing;
in our funery finery, a furious silence
wet upon the faces of love's departing,
of children briefly born.
The sun returns. The words are gone.

 
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