Echoes of Grace

I thought the leaving would happen all at once A single storm, a wave that crests and breaks And leaves behind a smooth, new shoreline Where only the brave remain.   But loss has patience. It lingers in empty chairs at family gatherings, In holiday cards that never come, In the sudden cold of a friend’s silence.   The price is more than paperwork Though there are days when my name is a line item On some bureaucrat’s form, My identity contingent on stamps and signatures, A scavenger hunt through offices and websites For the right letter, the right code, Proof that I belong to myself.   It is the ache of every sideways glance, The stinging echo of a once-loving voice Turned sharp or silent. It is waiting on hold, listening to bad music, Rehearsing explanations for the hundredth time, Trying to convince a stranger That my happiness is not a clerical error.   Yet, beneath the pile of rejections, Underneath the smud...

No one knew her name. Only the crime— Whispered like an incantation Until the crowd grew certain They had always despised her.   She knelt in the square, A hush before the jeering rose, Her heartbeat loud in the hollow Where dignity once lived.   No friend came. No kin stepped near. And when the first stone was lifted, She did not lift her head.   But someone stepped from the ring— A stranger whose silence Cut through their hunger for blame. He paused, as if he too Had been accused.   He said nothing, He did not protest her shame. Only set his hand Upon her bowed back, And lowered himself beside her Until their shadows blurred.   A murmur stirred— The question unspoken: Why would he risk being counted with her?     And in that moment, Her disgrace became shared ground— A quiet joining That no condemnation could unmake.   He did not stand again Until the crowd had found Some other spectacle to feed their hunger.   And when she rose, She rose n...