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Dear sisters, dear brothers, we have more years behind us than we have ahead. Let's not pretend. One of us will soon be the last sibling left. One of us will tend the graves of the others. Dear sisters, dear brothers, our late father planted trees in the family frontyard that are younger than us. Those trees will keep growing as we, one by one, go away. So let's gather now and pray together for the sibling who'll pray alone on their last day.
My poem is inspired by this song from Jason Isbell and Amanda Shires.
Wow. Such an incredibly well aimed shot in the bull's eye. Like you are talking about me and my family, but then with a selection of words put in such an order as I could only aspire to managing.
Thank you fro writing this.
I hope the gathering brings what you wish.
Lightning can strike twice into the same heart. I am older than I ever thought I would be. Have missed my share of lightning bolts…