as if distance can lay a salve
on wounds and render truth
more doubtful and less real.
Is it hours or days which repair
and restore what is broken,
or is it just a process of grief
and resolute becoming?
Perhaps there is an order within
which embarks upon a course
of change and compromise,
in order to assimilate what is.
That in the living with an event,
we slowly come to understand,
it was and is and ever has been;
past, future and present are one.