As widow/ers, we can’t help but dwell on the negative space–what is missing. But there is beauty in the negative spaces too.
What isn’t there can be seen and felt.
Memories like polaroids, coming up slowly.
Blue sky between the trees.
Memories like a movie scene, loud and laughing.
Puppy breath.
Memories like song lyrics and their incandescent pauses.
The smell of a newborn baby, invisible but oh, so real.
Memories like kaleidoscope flashes.
A mother’s love; a father’s love.
Memories small and tight as a hummingbird’s nest.
Nothing spaces, negative spaces…sometimes that where truth lives. Maybe that’s where love lives.
What is that in-between space of a dog’s love?
An urgent nothing.
