Trees are weeping

Trees are weeping sap
from all their broken places
winter's losing ground

another email with no heartbeat

What do you do when
you get another
email about a
nephew you will not
have the chance to know

because your sister
has had another
miscarriage, and you
have no way to give
her any comfort?

I write a poem.
It doesn't really
help anything, but
I still have to write
to make space for tears.

soon

purple dusk sky rests

on bare, weary branches, but

spring is coming soon

not yet

purple dusk sky pierced

by sharp, black winter branches

spring is not here yet