Flowers For Mila

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the last day

Tara
Jan 17
27
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When a policeman comes to your door

{make it two}

When two policemen come to your door

Rigid black hats tucked under their arms

Do not answer

Leave it be

There is nothing for you there

What they have to say is not for your ears

When two policemen come to your door

In the middle of the black night

Listen instead to the

Legions of night creatures singing in the trees

And calling from the melting ditches

Let their cacophony drown out the words from the other side 

Of the door

“Ma’am, it’s the police. Are you the mother of ….”

Stop right there, sir!  Did you not hear the loon? You mustn’t talk over the loon.

When two policemen come to your door

They should know that there is an etiquette we must all abide by

Even you, policemen.

No standing on my front porch asking if I am the mother of the girl

First, you tell me she’s okay and then we can speak.

And no tucking of the hat under the arm. Put them back on your heads.

Put them back on your heads or get off my porch.

When policemen come to your door

Be warned that there is nothing good to come

Downcast eyes and grim expressions suck all of life into silence

Every frog hushes, owls muted.

“This is the hardest part of our job…”

No! Stop! Hat on! Turn around! Leave! You’re wrong! Get into your car, and come back when you know the truth! You are a liar! It’s not true! Take it back! You’re wrong, you’re wrong, you’re wrong! Fix it and come back! Do your mother fucking job!

When policemen come to your door with moonlight in their hair

Slip out the back door and never return.

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Debbie Soroczan
Jan 17·edited Jan 17Liked by Tara

When you call the policemen to do a wellness check and you’re standing at your daughter’s unanswered door, and they’re explaining to you in hushed tones how they’re going to grab her and sit her down so she doesn’t do anything rash once the super arrives with the key, and you know deep in your bones that that’s not what’s going to happen but you play along with the charade in supreme denial, nodding your understanding, and then they go in into …. Silence…..

It’s hell on earth.

There aren’t enough hugs or flowers on earth to send you, Tara. Just the love from my own broken heart. 💔♥️

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Elizabeth
Jan 19Liked by Tara

Oh, Tara. ❤️ I will never understand how our hearts and lungs can keep working after the death of a child.

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