Another story of a child or children separated from parents,
of tears streaming
no comfort, ever the
optimist my friend on facebook offers
hope.
I am reading Forgiveness selected for Canada reads.
I talk to friends, celebrate anniversaries, birthdays, picnic by the Bay.
Listen to small voices across phone lines telling me about
dinosaur bones and maman’s graduation, wrap my arms through the lines until I can feel their hearts
beating against mine.
I cycle to the Bay,
jump in feeling the cool waters washing over sorrow.
I sit on the porch and discuss letters to write to Prime
Ministers, donations to be made to law
societies.
Sitting in the labyrinth pulling grasses out by the
roots, careful not to disturb the tiny
seedling, remember planting his placenta there,
such tiny little people, so innocent, so loved, so hurting.
I read poetry written by a friend, by a stranger, known and unknown by another,
soul soothing,
grateful for a friend ever the optimist who inspires me.
gloria kropf nafziger June 2018
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