a few words on grief

time does not exist with grief

it doesn't last days, months, or years

it feels endless

like once it's here it will stay forever.

grief bubbles in the pan on the stove because the kettle broke.

it's the change of soft pink petals that achingly harden into a fallen crisp brown.

it's the whistle in the wind singing past your ear as you stand by the grave.

it's the catch in the throat when you look at a stranger with a familiar face, wishing it was the one you knew, only to know, it can't be true.

she is bubbling in the pan on the stove because the kettle broke.

she is the soft pink petals that blossom in the spring, she moves elsewhere before the leaves turn brown.

she sings when the wind whistles past your ear as you stand by the grave.

she is there in the unbelievable moments we think she is,

even in the most unexpected of moments.

time does not exist with her

she wasn't here for days, months, or years

she is endless

she is here

and she'll stay forever.

Always in our hearts Harriet