A nail beside the door of me,
Holds sorrow’s coat in dignity;
Yet cleansed by breath, it disappears;
It drips its rain it folds its gray
Then leaves at dawn without delay
The morning light collects the hue
And turns the heaviness to dew;
No grief can live beyond its stay
The heart restores its brighter way
The fabric smells of weathered years
A quiet guest polite aware
That sadness too can learn to care
When absence fills the evening room
Its space becomes a field in bloom;
For loss once hung no longer weighs—
It teaches love in gentler ways