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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