- Linda M. Crate
Rid of Darkness

this is not what i wanted
for who would care
to die?
i did not want to take death's hand,
but neither of you asked;
took from me without permission
robbing me of the person i once knew
as i grew where i was planted
buried face first beneath the snow—
the sun was my hero along with my mother moon
who stitched my sobbing frame together without scorn or coldness
simply listening to my prayers and my sadness then pulling
my corset of life tighter dispelling all the pain
until it rushed out of me like flowing water
i saw the darkness you gave me leaving and i did not mourn
any longer.
—linda m. crate