A poem by Isabelle Sorrells

Our ways of celebration have come and gone

We have left them behind in a period we no longer belong.

But we have been blessed

With new ways

And new peoples

To live our lives with us.

And we have been even more blessed

To have reminders and continuances of the past

Of small parts of the important things

That we cared about so much.

It may not be the same as it once was,

But it is not worse.

Just, a new kind of good.

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