Tagged: grieving

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

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

during the fifth

during the fifth
anniversary of your
passing, we were
and were no longer
residuals. i didn’t
say anything, you
didn’t say
anything, but our
bodies sighed
infinitives –
to live, to live,
to touch, to
endure –
nothing
so finite
.
20150219:0909
y

the truth is

the truth is
each memory
cell is self-
contained, requiring
no additional
interaction for
survival. but death,
death is a tricky
thing. it polishes
and pinches the
cells until their
membranes finally
give,
and nothing good
has ever come
from a flood
.
20141001:0046
y

a string of lights is

this morning, after

this morning, after
19 years, you
reached out
to wish me a
happy birthday
and to let me know
your mother
passed away
yesterday,
age 74,
a heart attack.
two different
milestones along
the same path

but you knew that
.
20140924:0829
y

some days are worse

some days are worse
than others, we pull
our blankets
more tightly around
each other, waiting
for comfort
to hit harder
.
20140718:0114
y