Retreat

Loss is the

other side of

the coin,

the one that

lasts longer,

the one that

feels like

it will never

end.

The other side

is a brief light,

a glimpse,

a flare,

a signal

fire

a thousand

petals

falling

all at once,

quickly,

quickly.

We never ask

the darkness

to stay.

But it holds

out its hands

whether we

take them

or not.

This is what

is given.

Immeasurable,

a buried seed,

a breath,

briefly alive,

then gone,

eternal.

Image: Annie Spratt of Unsplash

April 3, 2021

#NaPoWriMo2021 no. 3