. . .a thin triangular flap of a heart valve. . . a small book usually having a paper cover . . . a medical lit-art e-journal from The Permanente Press
This poem originates from the death of my wife. There are so many things from her death that I can’t ever forget. But we all experience death, and we all retain moments we can’t forget. It’s a part of being human, and it’s a part of loss.