Recovery

She died in an accident yesterday;

The funeral is held today.

The minister talks, but all I can hear

Are the sobs of family members.

I wait till it’s over to search for him;

I find him with tears in his eyes.

His hands are shaking, face ravaged by grief;

I am scared by his violent sobs.

He asks me to stay, his green eyes pleading;

I pull him into my embrace.

He tells me it’s his fault that she’s gone;

I tell him no, he’s not to blame.

This poor boy should not take the guilt of death–

He should not know that blackened shame.

I pull his hand and show him the river;

Its beauty does not calm him.

I rub his back and ask him to calm down.

“Your sister loved you very much.

Do not forget her but don’t lose yourself.”

His eyes are clear for a moment;

I know that he’s fighting tears, holding on.

I hold him close and let him breathe;

He sighs and wipes away his burning tears.

He thanks me with a shaking voice,

And asks me to come visit him quite  soon.

I agree and give him a hug.

He nods, unsteady, and sits on a rock;

He looks so alive yet broken.

His suit gets crumpled, but he doesn’t care.

His eyes are flecked with hazel gold.

I sit beside him and watch the river.

The flowing water calms me down.

I hold his hand and hope he is okay.

He will make his recovery,

Even though he’s unsure of the future.

I know that he will be alright.

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