Day 58 – The Castle

There is no cure
for a pile of ashes
no putting back together
the plane that crashes

There is no use
in revisiting the grave
no power of recollection
that could save

But we do have the means
of preservation
a way to steel our minds
from devastation

Yes, the castle burned
as we always knew it would
but ah- do you remember
when it stood?

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Day 17 – Sick Day

There is nothing that a doctor
could find wrong with me-

so I cannot get a note.
But I’m staying home
anyway.

I’ve got a fever of the mind
I can’t prove,
yet I feel

heavy,
collapsed from the inside,
tense
from holding steady
too long.

There is a seed of grief
I have to tend to
before it grows big,

a sadness which wonders
at all the scuttling,
all the getting by.

“Am I getting lost?”

I know this road too well,
I know the cost,
I know the cure,

and today I’m calling out
to fix myself.