When A Poet Dies
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When a poet dies
the world dies
a little
edge of earth
falls away,
letting go
un-penned words,
all seamless souls,
to haunt or hallow
whatever verse
that found the page.
When a poet dies
the world dies
a little
But heart remains
in stunning phrases,
in commas that catch
at the back of our throats,
in the tangled sweet of it all
that long lives
past our grieving
into the light.
— Belle Fox-Martin
