Mending.

Photo by Nilay Ramoliya from Pexels

I have sewn these seams a hundred times:
Letting out,
Taking in,

Adjusting for change,
Suturing wounds
And mending the tears
Through which too many have left, 
Exposing for a moment
That which I wish to keep hidden:
Tender flesh, secret places, 
A soul worn and tattered; 
Safely concealed 
Beneath the careful tailoring
And confident colour
Of that which I display to the world.

Today,
In the quietness of my sanctuary,
I gather my fraying finery
Close to my breast,
Protective of its frailty,
I  weep, 
Overwhelmed by the agony
Of an injury so profound
It may never be repaired.

And then,
Because I have no choice,
I begin to stitch,
Yet again.

©2020 Joanne Van Leerdam

Gone.

Photo credit: Sean Hewer. All rights reserved.

You were here yesterday
And this morning.
How can you be just
Gone?
In the time it takes
To blink, or breathe
Or turn to look, 
You left.
Now, there is endless time
To weep, to rage,
To question, and yet
Go on.
I don’t know how to be
Here without you.
How can you be just
Gone?

©2020 Joanne Van Leerdam

Dedicated to the brother of my brother, who was much loved and is deeply missed.

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