I wake to the nightmare
of your leaving.
Death’s reality an insistent hammer
on the nail head, bang, bang, banging.
hot bath, pills.
Who’s to blame?
What were you thinking,
if, you were thinking
or if feeling
feeling so miserable over events
you went over? Brussels.
Overwhelming nightmare of innocent
lives lost again and again.
I try to understand, comprehend, empathize,
but I cannot, not comprehensively
grateful for tomorrow.