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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.
This is a lovely poem and the music was perfectly attuned and haunting. I wish I had planted a tree for every loved one who died--i would have a lush forest today. I wish those I loved had lived as long as giant sequoias and that we could have had more years together.
So timely. My sister and I are in Florida helping our old dad who just had a stroke. The beauty of your work is like a small fire that burns quietly and softly, warming with wisdom and love and keeping the darkness at bay. Thank you, Sherman.