For Piya (Beloved) and Jiya (Heart) Patel

--for the children murdered by their ill-medicated mother on August 27, 2011

The city will remember your smiles, beloveds,
and carry them in its heart.
The shapes of your small hands will always be beloved,
grasping at the world you were just coming to know by heart.

The city will invite you over to play, beloveds,
when the mountains are changing
as they are always changing our hearts.

The city will sit on the edge of your bed, beloveds,
read you your favorite story until it knows it by heart.
And the city will peek in on you at night, beloved,
and watch the rising blankets as you breathe and listen to the beating of your heart.

Though we now let you go to be with the spirit, beloveds,
we will keep you here in our spirit in our hearts.
We will watch you grow, beloveds.
We will remember you when our hearts delight in play.
Our children will remember the name of your most beloved fruit.
They will know how high you could swing on the playground with a racing heart.
They will mark their hearts with your beloved names
because you’ll be the ones that are always missing.

The city will always have a place for you, beloveds, in our heart.
In our gardens, the flowers that bloom from this summer on will be bright as your hearts.
They will belong to you
and to the beloved summer itself,
and all the bluest skies shall hold you, beloveds, 
as we now reach to touch you, beloveds,
high above the mountain, beloved in its softness,
that holds us up today, beloveds,
in its shining, loving heart.

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