Woman with Grief 1

It's been two years since her return from war.
It's been three years since his fatal campaign.
It's been two years since influenza scored 
more deaths of friends who with her drank champagne 
in crushed glasses celebrating. No more
years to knit like knotted rope that begins 
with burnt ends and unravels written lore.
It's been these years never to feel again.

Grief is a two-way street penciled on maps. 
Multiple grievings are a three-way stop;
the options unknown, but to stand still slaps
with many hands. Grief twirls, and grief will top
any mountain with absence. Grief is sap
in a tree boiling roots until they pop.
There is no such thing as leftover pizza. There is now pizza and later pizza. - anonymous
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
Sign In or Register to comment.