at my grandfather’s funeral
mom stood
at a ritual distance
eight-months-ripe
with her back against the wall

the women allowed her just
that – no participation, only
observation – a calculated
counterbalancing act
to ward off from her womb
a penetrating sadness

at my grandfather’s funeral
i lay coiled
at a ritual distance
eight-months-ripe
fueled ever so
gracefully
with love impenetrable
.
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