Alone are those who mourn
for the long, retreating sigh of the wind,
for the last warm light before descending,
for the skeleton boat where the lake
once lived, for the sparrow who falls
and is not noticed.

Alone are those who edge
across the dark ice of pain,
arms outstretched,
keeping their balance,
moving forward.

Alone are those who mourn
the loss of those received
with outstretched arms
and suffering.