At the Memorial

Elderly woman uprights toppled potted plants. Small pots of mums, mini rose bush, geraniums tottering (ailing for the water she provides) on white stones beneath encrypted names. She knows none of the souls resting, yet the memorial draws her. There's a peace here that slips quietly from the hum of nearby streets. Sometimes a child's note, wind blown away, needs re-fixing to the wall's base. She strains to match note to name. The rhythm of small alignments that re-fit a shredded world in a meaningful way. Her restorations that have the energy of giving, like spiritual dignity that erases invisibility. kindness glow prevails devotion honors fallen elemental force Haibun composed August 19/21