We spent months bracing and preparing for the death of our daughter.
Royce Young

Hello, Royce.

I could not help thinking about your family since my last post. The bittersweetness of your story had truly followed the quietness of my hours.

I hope that I am not presuming too much to share these words with you, this time my own.


Let me speak,
my silent-gone child...
to raise the flame and illuminate
the black pools and portents.
Let us mark out time's passage 
with talismans of old;
light will be the memories
for your footsteps to follow.

Let the wind catch my remnant wishes,
stitched with care onto
bright golden pennants -
hung high, they murmur your name,
speaking of love you sense
not by ear, but by heart; 
your treads guided home by
the worn shoes you borrowed.

Child of mine,
you have been missed.



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