Nice

It’s nice when you no longer cry
at remembering
some thing
or someone
you could not forget if you tried.

You have discovered that
attempts to make sense
can create order
even when there is no sense to be made.

No tears.
No anguish over disorder.
You have let go
for good.
Your falling finally fell into place.

Nice.
A worn word that fits well.
Finally.

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In Case You Missed It: Dear Iowa Visitor (Sept. 13)
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