‘The wings we have are so fragile
they can break from just
one word, or

a glance void
of love.’

Catherine of Siena, ‘Hymns of the Earth’, 1379

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send a voice
into the void,
into the family mire

send a voice,
a rich voice,
full of phonemes and diphthongs,
telling our story,
our family story,
ephemeral, unique,
a poignant spasm of time

send a voice to the ground
where my mother and brother are laid,
that patch of earth,
that suburban ground,
devoid of tenor,
inert,
ripened by remorse,
leavened by love

send a prayer
to consecrate its tumult

send a sign
that all that was not said
is said now

send a sign
that all that was forgotten
is now remembered
and revered