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  • for the first time since
    then
    I saw, her.
    the first time
    since -

    Today.
    walking the two dogs
    on the same path
    a different step,
    a determined and dignified step,
    her shoulders
    squared.
    I could feel the landing of each foot step
    one
    after the other.

    I want.
    I want to call to her,
    to point, and say, "see, here she is,
    walking".
    I want
    to hold her face in my hands,
    and trace
    her shattered life with my clumsy fingers.
    I want to look
    look into her eyes
    and see what he has left there.

    I look at my own son
    alive, sitting beside me,
    reeking of smoke,
    anger, and last night's words
    still
    in the air around us

    and I want to scream and scream.
    to scream, fall on my knees
    and shake,
    shake the world until her son is
    not dead.
    to shake it so I won't feel
    her shattered world
    with each deliberate step

    instead
    I drive by,
    look at my son, and
    do not cry.
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