Tag: Grief
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My father’s spade
leaning on a box in my cluttered breezeway my father’s spade pants, grip worn smooth, tail twitching, eager for his master
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Day 18
gray tree branches hover over dried-damp grass – last year’s growth – chimes ting on the steady breeze remind us of life still here
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Day 9
that you will fade away over six point four years, so says the wise actuary, and that I should budget appropriately
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Day 4
let us begin here, at the temple of helplessness, to grieve proper the angels caught unawares, before awareness even
Poems from in between 