Let every fallen leaf become a wish.
Let them swirl and overtake the yard
in a crosswind of grief as you begin
the process of letting go. Nothing left to do
but renounce the love. Feel a great wind
move though you as it attempts to appease the soul,
which feels at fault, even through no fault of its own.
Let it sit beside you on the front porch,
drape its small arm around you like that of a child’s—
maybe you’ll find some clarity in that, some peace
in the unexplainable. Maybe the best thing
is to just sit there, wait for the blood to drain back
into your body. No rush to go back into the house
and pick up where your life has left off.