Tears

they fall towards Earth no matter from where they come,
the heart most likely, broken in places, a hole where someone
you loved rested and then departed, leaving a gaping
place where water flows like a river, a layer of mud
perhaps, a broken foundation waiting for a stone mason
to show up with trowel and cement to patch together
again until the next flood of loss.
a puppy dog grown old, tired eyes, no appetite
but with a wagging tail at the sight of their loved one
that walked them every day and every night, no
matter the rain or snow, cold or heat, always there
to snap the leash onto the collar with the hearts on
it, hearts meant to be broken, mended and broken again.
that is our life here as humans to break and mend
again and again and again.