or their silent swiftness
I know what it takes
take it from me, what I feel
now is only the strange
weight of grief
not grief itself--that may take
lifetimes, I doubt anyone
can take that from me
______
Pic: A frozen Red Cedar.
Left home at 3:30 am this morning for a weekend trip to NYC with Big A. I tend to give away a lot of our extra cash to GoFundMes and buying...
8 comments:
Such a lovely poem, and you nailed it. The weight of the grief will eventually fade, but the grief itself is always there. You’ve been here before, so you know…but still, every time we go through it, it’s kind of a shock, right?
This is stunning, Maya!!
Oh, so true. This is lovely, and the photo complements it perfectly: the partially frozen river, some movement, but places are still locked in ice.
I'm not sure if having a poet's heart makes grief harder or easier, my friend. XO
I like how the repetition of words in the first stanza and beginning of the second propels the poem along.
A steep curve every time... I hope never to become used to it
Thank you, Lisa <3
Thank you, Nance.
There is a lot of distraction in working/trying to work things out...
Thank you, Steph! (There's some in the third as well...)
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