Stones for Michael
and Tammy Jean
You told me
that people were bringing stones
from around the world
for your collection
from the places your 17 year old
would never get to see. I brought
a common, garden rock
a little fresh earth still clung to
from my own backyard
a place my own son--so close
in age to yours who died--no longer
visits but still thrives.
I cried reading your poems
again today. Excruciating elegies and
mother's grief, for both of us.
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