SUNDAY, AUGUST 31, 2003
Tomorrow everything will be all right.
I’ll come to the cemetery
and bring you home.
I’ll prepare for you a meal
of oranges, apples and peanut butter on bread.
I’ll pour you a glass
of carbonated water.
While you eat,
I’ll tell you how lonely I am.
I’ll tell you how empty my life is.
I’ll tell you that prayer changes nothing.
You’ll tell me about the darkness
and how you like my flowers.
You’ll tell me about the cold
and the endless hours.
You’ll tell me how much
you miss your family.
I’ll tell you I’ll come soon
to join you,
not to be impatient.
You’ll say,
“Don’t hurry.”
—from Rattle #25, Summer 2006
Tribute to the Best of Rattle
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Dallas Wiebe: “My wife of fifty years passed away on April 19, 2002. Since that devastating loss, I have dealt with my grief and loneliness by writing poems.”
