I wake to cloudy skies
that have not yet
turned to rain
feeling her tears when finally
they pop up on my windshield
her inability to hold
them back
and once let loose impossible to stop
I am reluctant to
initiate the wiper
not wanting to wash them away
she back from where
she was
like Lazarus and I
wonder
who the Christ was
who
brought this about
and why this God did not finish
what he started curing only the symptoms
but not the disease
leaving her to seek strength
to compete The cure herself
is she strong enough
after so many times
being kicked down the stairs
can she rise without the help of Simon's
bearing if only
briefly the cross he is condemned to carry
after all this time
after so many
struggles
you think she would
still stagger
(ie what doesn't kill you…)
and yet she has not
still as vulnerable
as a kid
and as appealing
as if we need to save her
even when that is the
last thing she wants from us
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