Day 24 — NaPoWriMo

Across the afternoon
we took turns holding
out our cupped hands full
of this pain or
that disappointment
pouring out that which
we’ve told ourselves
and others
and the years
and now each other,
perhaps again,
and we listen and
take turns holding
out our cupped hands
to take, most gently,
a friend’s pain and fear
news barely speakable
history still being deciphered
futures yet unknown.
At parting our cupped hands
are still full of it all
this uncertain life,
lightened by pouring it
back and forth
across life’s table.