Original EveryPoem Studio house-voice poem.
Choose a genuine response. Counts appear only after several readers agree.
They asked me to say something. As if the right words exist.
The eulogy is the hardest poem: you must condense a life into minutes, make a room full of crying people laugh at least once.
After everyone goes home, the cups remain half-full, chairs turned toward conversations
Milk, lemons, soap, her handwriting leaning forward as if the paper were a hill.
We entered with flowers, photographs, folded programs. We left with the same things
My father's chair still faces the window where he watched the street as if expecting a delivery
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