Tagged: grief

you showed passion for

you showed passion for
every sixteenth thing, which is,
statistically, an

achievement. and now we are
at a loss, missing your smile
.
20210524:2040
y

between the end and

between the end and
the end of the end, there is
little more to say –

there are memories within
memories that pull us in and out
.
20210523:1350
y

we are attempting

we are attempting
to speak with a single voice – no
group has ever built

unity underneath an
invisibility cloak
.
20210317:2027
y

we’ve been here before –

we’ve been here before –
six days before christmas and
not yet home – somehow,

it feels different, homeward bound
plays in the distance, with teeth
.
20201219:1050
y

even in the land of

even in the land of
the free, we collectively
grieve when no one
is stepping up to
lead us,
hide our sons and
daughters from our
neighbors, run directly
into traffic,
masked or unmasked, struck
by the myth of
heroes and villains
.
20201114:0622
y

on the first day of

on the first day of
spring, you
returned to us,
suddenly
fatherless. there
are parts of us
that will dance
around recognizing
parts of you
because no one
wants to claim
a familiarity
to loss
.
20180320:2140
y

forty-three hours have

forty-three hours have
passed since we lost you. i hide
the details
from my-

self, don’t get too close to the
edges for fear of falling
.
20170501:0410
y

remember that year

remember that year
when we lost so
many… was the
joy ever worth
the long
aches afterwards?
everyone tries
these words
in their mouths
many times before
spitting them out.
they’re unswallowable
by any muscles
so the human spirit
keeps taking the bait
.
20170429:2327
y

on the seventh

on the seventh
anniversary of your
death, i announce
it the way one
notes it’s saturday,
close my heart
off for the rest
of the day, tune
in to everything
so there is no room
for the hunter
.
20170218:2359
y

at the bookstore the

at the bookstore the
other day, i get down to
my knees and find myself
eye-level to a shelf
of books that scream
you. i pull off
a few volumes, open
to chance pages,
always looking for a
message, a sign to
your disappearance.
in one is a man
lighting up a
cigarette, in
another is someone
cursing, and in
a third, a
blank page, waiting
for the right
moment that will
no longer come
.
20160913:0413
y