Skip to content

Wet by the shallows - our willow.

 

 

 

You do not cry because you cannot. I will not cry because you do not.

 

 

 

You give my hands the weight of your body.

 

Rest in me.

 

What I mean is this is where I choose to die.

 

In Praise of the Healer

Sandra Ridley

More from
Poem of the Week

Sarah Tolmie

51

Karen Leeder

Née Wachtel

translated from the German written by
Durs Grünbein