By Sara Kandler
For the children and teachers slain in Uvalde, Texas, and their heartbroken families.
I’m working on goodbye
its incarnations
and stages
how at first I do not cry
but feel release
even smile inside
welcoming
the stillness the end and the beginning
Now it’s the unraveling
thumbnails digging beneath
a thick orange peel
spiraling toward infinity
suddenly
a skid
skin tears
time’s up
the calm sectioning
then rinsing of
my sticky fingers
because that’s what one does
complete the task at hand
stay the course
make the calls
line up the belongings
pass through doorways
barely noticing the arc of the sun
the dimming sky
and the deepening heartache of
a brand new strain of
loneliness
