Beneath sufferance stones

Poem by Steve Day

'From the comfort of our sofa we went there with you. Took her scented candle to a vigil saw your sorrow in the flame asking us to waste some silence.' | Photo: by Eyasu Etsub on Unsplash

He had been digging
his four year old daughter out of the earth.
We know this because there was no choice,
witnessing him burst his straining back,
splitting spinal minor chords
of both himself, as in parent
      and child, as in dead daughter.
Now he lies fixed to a frame in a crowded hospital
corridor full of ceiling dust and holes where the light
shines through.
It seems even the tired sun scours
his faithful tolerance of historical afflictions.

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