Grief
A word so soft when whispered gently
The dark of a wind ravaged night,
No moon, no stars
Morning a sliver on the horizon, bobbing farther
And farther away
How it holds one gently, wrapping
The saw blades edge
Waiting, patient, stoic,
A cape, a suit of armor, a shoulder
A nest carved between roots
Hidden, secret, warm
Searching the clouds for your face
Your heart
Your spirit
Turning, disappointed, to the earth
A laugh, a smile
Sneaking from the beneath the ocean
The sun on my face
Between storms
Tired, so tired
Every morning one day closer
To waking with you
Grief.
About the Creator
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