Do not obsess, dear one
over the loss of a friend, a love, a young or old face
Let your eyes rest from seeking them out
You will not see them
Let your ears, again, find solace in near sounds
The voices they long for will not be heard
Do not obsess, poor heart
Over words misspoken, mistakes, missteps or misunderstandings
Your heart only decided over matters that were already made
Feet carried you over paths trailing for their sake
And stopped where awaiting tents were pitched before you came
Do not obsess, dear one
over the loss of a friend, a love, a young or old face
Slowly, with kindness, knead the longing out of your fingers
Teach them to forget the wrinkles over which they lingered
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