Poem: What remains now

What remains now

is what we hold
and that is too much
and not enough
in the worst ways,
in only those ways sometimes,
though it was good,
was the best thing,
was what we have done,
the best thing we did,
the right thing, the good thing.
It is not alright now,
has not been.  It can't be,
not really, not again.
That is the truth.
I know we are surviving
and healing, I think, too,
but it is not different.
The change is permanent.
There is not a way.
It is a loss.  Always,
we have a loss there.
It will remain with us.
Is that a good thing
even as it hurts?

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