How Little I Know of Death

I wrote the letter today. The one that holds
your son, his limp body, oh
no letter could buoy
the blue jammies he wore
in your beaten arms.

This letter holds
a few wild buttercups
I found with faint hope.
They will bend too. For a few
bright days they grew.

Deborah Bacharach is the author of After I Stop Lying (Cherry Grove Collections, 2015). Her work has appeared in The Antigonish Review, Blue Mesa Review, Ilanot Review, Global Geneva, CALYX, and New Letters, among many others. Find out more about her at http://www.deborahbacharach.com.

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