olivewood beads
handwoven shawl
reflection journal
unpacked with care
ten silent days
ten days alone
the hours loom

every day
old graveyard walk
I trace the dates
on worn-down stones
died at eighteen
twenty-two, our angel
taken at birth

I dodge rushing cars,
horns, anxious
people with no notion
the breadth of a day
spent slowly
minute by minute
in silence

how still the chapel,
sacred names
on the breath
fingering the beads
1001 times
and again

2023 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.

I welcome comments and discussion!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s