• rachaelherren


Bruce passed this morning.

I lit my candle

And arranged my stones

In a way that would have

Horrified him.

That makes me laugh.

Of course,

No one understands what a spirit is.

What it does or

Where it moves.

But I can hope for the best,

And I want to.

So I remember

And smile in a way

That clenches up my belly

And wets my face.

And I hold my best, bluest stone to my


And wish him well.

My short candle will burn out soon.

Then, I'll light a new, fresh

Green candle.

And bid his spirit welcome

To whatever it wants next.

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