Stacia

“When I reached her room, I didn't go in. I sat on the floor outside her door, and I cried the tears I knew I wouldn't be able to bring forth once she was gone. I cried tears for the poet and through her I cried tears for my mother and for my father. I must have fallen asleep right there in the corridor, for I was woken when the sun took over from the moon, by a nurse arriving to check on Kingfisher. She took me wordlessly to the staff room and made me a cup of coffee with both milk and sugar, and gave me tissues to wipe my face. How many kind strangers there are, for all of us, and how often they know the value of silence and soft hands.”
― Rozie Kelly, Kingfisher