Lula 1911-2016

I sat down with a longing to share a thought, only to realize that a thought and a longing are two separate, lonely things. If I could take that which aches beneath my heart and string it into words, than I could tell you why the night hovers outside my open door. How the darkness has saddled up to that which has come and gone, making the years collapse into moments that bump against the holes of the screen and slip in. The weight of it, when it comes down all at once and slips in, pretending to be nothing more than a moonless night in spring.