Echoes

heartbeats together

By R.C. TaylorPublished 2 years ago • 1 min read

The love I feel for my family

doesn't behave in stanzas,

never knows what language it is,

is so powerful that I feel it in my bones

right next to the chronic but

in the ways all good things persist,

and when I lie down at night next

to my grandmother's urn we all

are pressed back to back,

just breathing.

I write to invoke, to process, to honor, to resurrect, and—sometimes—to grieve but, above all, I write to be free.

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