Relit

Our lives have been lived,
bodies changed,
candles burned and relit,
thoughts formed in cycles,
seasons,
snow ball fights and rivers swam,
fields found and favorite shirts worn thin,
forgetting so much, a compendium of words.
This place is a shelter, an opening
in what was walked away from.
Five year old emails
to grandparents that no longer live.
Six year old emails
to the girl who changed the life
you had.
Letters and notes, pictures,
paintings, poems,
parts of parts
of parts.
Sweaters lost beneath the bed,
shoes destroyed in forests of
fondness,
rocks skipped across ten thousand
miles of memories, getting smaller,
gaining distance,
slowly sinking
beneath the surface
of lives lived.
Broken bones, fractured hopes,
torn between doing and done,
moving on or moving in.
Poems are plaster casts of
the intangible beauty
existing beyond our
ability to truly share
the feeling of
"alive."
We're bound in them,
and deleted,
torn, trashed, tossed,
dismissed, dismantled,
edited, repurposed,
disposed,
and found.
We're bound in
lives lived,
binding in us
life of others
changed and
relit.