Sometimes…

When the earth is breaking
I can feel it,
but I am removed
tears filling a pillow
not the forest floor.
We used to plant daffodils this way
Thousands of years ago.
I would have held you close every day:
Hands to heart.
I would have known how to keep the bears away;
how to hide you in the trees.
I feel the earth breaking and crying
and I am misplaced.
The wrong time.
The wrong people.
I don’t know how to protect you
how to hide you from all this.

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