you burn, in a bucket, old love notes, journal pages
The words feather, dance, singe, diminish  

To a clay mortar you add the paper ash
with dried bloodroot and globe thistle, grind slowly  

You loose his portrait from the frame
dark hair, blue eyes, insistent  

breathe through love’s swollen roots
commit your self to forgive  

When you look out the window, the glass
reflects inward, your face a fogged moon                                    

~ Found poem composed/modified from words in Jean Valentine’s poem, “Waiting”