I Don't Know How
I don’t know how
to get to you,
where you are buried
invisible and small.
Your voice not a whisper,
but the perfect volume
oh, despite what
the other voices say.
Your opinions are
bottled, sealed.
Do you know them?
Hear them?
I will dig here
in this hard ground
because I miss you,
miss remembering you.
In this place
where lie the
consequences of a
quietly silenced heart.
—jennifer j. camp