Evidence of our
shared humanity emerges,
glistening, from our
chance conversation.
My earnest stream of words
halted mid-breath
by a sudden throat-lump,
heralding a sadness I had no idea
was concealed so close
to the surface.

The art did it:
the twenty-two bees.
I should have let them
speak for themselves,
for when I expounded
on their behalf,
the upwelling came;
tears on my cheeks that
almost simultaneously
evoked them in her own eyes.

Therein lies the proof.
Me on home soil;
she a two-day visitor
from overseas,
speaking of a handful
of men, women, children
we’d never met,
never can meet now.


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