I have been angry about the lack of recognition of grief and trauma we are living through during this pandemic. Tens of thousands dead and this separation and loss is not acknowledged.
I am taking the time to build a small altar in my home, with a candle. I recognize and honor the dead. They mattered, they are precious, they are gone.
This is a short poem about grief, by W. S. Merwin.
Separation
Your absence has gone through me
Like thread through a needle.
Everything I do is stitched with its color.