by Lillian Csernica on October 10, 2017
It’s that time of year. The O-bon Festival. El Dia de Los Muertos. All Hallows’ Eve. All Souls’ Day.
As the sunlight fades from the summer’s warm butter yellow into the pale light of autumn, we think about the people we’ve lost. All the tragedies and natural disasters that have struck this year have left many of us with fresh emptiness in our lives. For me, this became personal yesterday when the writing community lost someone I’ve known for a long time.
In honor of all the people who are gone now, and all those who must remain behind, I offer this poem.
Holy Sonnets: Death, be not proud