Today's poem is by Sarah Henning
Christmas (1988)
She has never held any hierarchy of grief . . .
which seems to me nothing less than a form of enlightenment.
—Maggie, Nelson, BluetsThe sadness will last forever.
—Vincent van GoghMemorial Park, Athens, GA
Before I knew the word yearning, I knew sadness
rising in my body like one of Stein's hurt colors. I knew my mother
cutting into the driveway, cigarette smoke silking her
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