Burial
Also my mother was dead but not really dead
She is dead to me
My heart is in ruins
I will never see her again
There will be no more time for reconciliation
The peace process is dead
Sometimes you have to give up
Sometimes peace is only separate
Sometimes your heart needs a rest
Sometimes your heart is feeling wonderful and shabby all at once
Sometimes you are an angel
Watching at the gates of the city
For an inkling, a sign
A remonstration
But none comes
The heart is heavy
You canšt pray
Because of the thousands dead
Tina Minkowitz
(not sure if my poem here totally fits,
because
it's like a nightmare combination of another loss
with this one, but that's part of the picture
too)
