There are
plates of food we will not eat.
People want, not to drown grief as much as they
want to fill it up.
But grief is a hole.
An emptiness
where there once was life and
light,
now, a void.
And I understand why people bring food.
What else can they
do?
But for me, I think an offering of ashes over sandwiches
and blank emails
with no subject line are my preference over casseroles.
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