My father’s spirit left his body in a darkened room six weeks ago. On the wings of his last breath, it ascended – a small cloud of color and energy. Believing, disbelieving – that is what my eyes saw….
When Death Comes
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Have you heard? Mary Oliver has died. The best beloved poet of our time? Yes. Maybe. But I’m sure – not only in my mind. She walked in beauty, like the night.