On crying

A poem on crying.
Cry like a candle

softly on the ground,

like a mother holding her

firstborn and overwhelmed by its sound.
Cry like a pack of wolfs

crying from afar,

like a kid tending

skinned knee’s scar.
Cry like the silence

preceeding a storm,

like someone for the

first time leaving home.
Cry like the ice-

metling but numb,

like a wife placing

flowers on her husband’s tomb.
Cry like a river

slowly running dry,

like once a heart wrenching

memory is now slipping by.


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