This selection of writing is a poem that I wrote, about my wife and I, coping with the death of our son.

The Fourth of April

Jesse left us three years ago.
And remembering him this morning, we wandered over to the empty place where
Our blundering footsteps had taken us on that day.
Stopping, we explored each other’s faces, and we listened.
Exhausted by merely thinking of the words that should be said,
None could be spoken.
Not even the utterance of a single word.

There, without words, we took our seat...