Grief with Graphite
The walking wounded traverse
worlds of gossamer, moonlit places
filled with moans ricocheting off
permanently tear-stained walls.
Eyes downcast, naked feet–
these penitents of sorrow suffocate
under the burden of constant dread.
Internal earthquakes pulverize bone.
Taking small, measured steps, shuffling
towards nighttime to a recurrent dream
where the beloved speaks, laughs
embraces. Death is a distant memory
a guttural wail erupts
How I love the small, swiftly
beating heart of the bird
singing in the great maples;
its bright, unequivocal eye.