Last night, I dreamt my dog died.
At first she just slipped her leash,
and then as I reached to reclip it,
her collar slid off; she became thinner
and I wondered how the collar
didn’t fall off all the time.
I shortened it and tried to pull
her close but couldn’t. As I began
to wake, the weight of living
pressed hard on me again. I knew
she was dying. Her loss rushed me,
along with the loss of grandparents,
friends, parents, my unborn child,
innocence, crowds trudging through
deserts in fathomless heartbreak.
They each took fresh names and spoke
them to me, asking me once more
to grieve, by name. And so I did.
This one is beautifully heartbreaking, Jeni. You have such amazing talent! I’m always so impressed by people who can bend words into music.
You have a good soul, Jill. And a lot of talent yourself!!
Thanks for your support and kind words.
Jennifer G. Knoblock said:
How you use these action words to describe something that we would think of as still–grieving as a process–“the weight of living/pressed hard on me again.” That last line is so perfect.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks. I struggled with that last line a looooong time. So I am glad to know it works for you.