A Simple Gift of Thanks

Thank you, for writing this book.
It needs to be written.

Simple words.
Spoken by a stranger
as I sat behind my table
last weekend.

A beautiful woman strolled by,
picked up the story of Mara and Zane. 
Reading the back, her eyes filled with tears
as she set it carefully on the simple stand.

Thank you, she said,
for writing this book. 

She took a step to leave, adding,
It needs to be written.
My sad smile of agreement, as she stood
watching me, wondering, I'm sure.

My eyes stayed forward, to the front of the tent, to the
beer table ahead and to my left,
smiling as others entered, and my day continued.

Her thank you has stayed with me since they floated
into the air, since I breathed in her appreciation. 

I wish it didn't need writing, 
that there was no need to give voice to the tough subject of 

suicide. 

Until there is no need for my words, I will 
fight. I will
speak up. I will
be a sounding board for others.

Such simple words, but I cannot
forget them. 

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