Goodbye, Edith Piaf
You came down in late afternoon, bearing coffee and bags of sweets
That before your knock, I would have found unbearable
Edith Piaf played through the speakers like through a tin can
Predictable for a rainy day but because the first drop remained
We agreed: Perfection
In your face I saw the quietest of grief.
Soft and waiting.
But, also, joy.
The kind that drives a stake
And a line of demarcation
Through the map of my soul.
Through the faith to which I cling, like stupidity
Through the cold, cold dark of knowing.