Sifted Box of Memories

The box of meaning is sifted, your fragrance

lingers

I’ve boiled off the excess and

let these treasures simmer

in my soul

weary

of searching for something missing

That never could

be boxed in.

Published by

Karisa Moore

I lost my son to suicide. Each day since, I commit my day to turning the page and continuing to write my story. There is no deeper grief, but I know too, that there is no greater hope than bringing life out of death. I offer each page to you as a testimony that there is hope for abundant life!

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