Gap
We all go to our graves
With a certainty deficit,
A gap between what we hope
For and what we know.
This hole is best filled by
Love, of course, but when
We go to retrieve it
As doubt demands it
We find the lacuna empty.
Where is it? Where did it go?
Did you forget already?
We’ve given it all away, silly,
To everyone we love
So they will have it
When they face their own
Days of doubt.
The only certainty
Is the love we leave behind,
Poured into a hole
With a hole in the bottom of it
5/1/25
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