Yvette Nachmias-Baeu

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A POEM'S LAST LINES

Ran across this poem and loved the last lines.
Afterword
BY KATE WALDMAN

Death is a lack, I suppose,
and love more so. One day
(it hurts to think of it),
we may not know each other’s faces.
But I will not falter.
I will drive here alone,
release you into air.