“Why has nothing changed,”
she wondered when Aaron died.
And she cried,
and she cried,
as the very weight of her tears
impeded the vainglorious sun
and the moon being more of a heart
mourned oh so bitterly beside her
while the world was shrouded in darkness
more appalling than the blackest night,
affrighting my ancient clumsy soul
with the enduring moans of her sorrow.
I could hear the earth begin to crack
felt it shaking ungratefully again and again.
I could feel the air grow stale and cold
holding each breath with avarice
while steps slowed, and regret carved
angry furrows across my trembling skin.
And so we begin,
and so we begin.
I sat staring into the indifferent sky
begging time to permit a peaceful pause.
I do not know what comes next—
knowledge and experience fail me,
because however spins the world more
it is so painfully true to behold
that nothing could ever be the same again,
not since the day that Aaron died.