Wheels

In that early morning hour

Of the only night

That winter chose to bite

The wheels left tracks

In a thin layer of snow

From the back door past

The reach of the porch light

Into the dark

Of little consequence

A business transaction

Complete

With an appointment made

For later

In the day

To seal the fate

Of the broken jar

The gurney carried

But that you

Left

Behind

It was the tracks

In the snow that continued on

In my mind

As I drove home

The singer sang

“Let Jesus lead you,

Let Jesus lead you,

Let Jesus lead you

All the way

All the way 
Lord

From earth to heaven

Let Jesus lead you

All the way”

Waiting Room

Perhaps the role of pain late unfolding

Once serene and summer-dawned youth bled dry

An overcast horizon of mourning

Is to train our wayward eyes on the sky

In The Words of Emily Dickinson

The bustle in a house

The morning after death

Is solemnest of industries

Enacted upon earth, –


The sweeping up the heart

And putting love away

We shall not want to use again

Until eternity.