Grief

The snow-dappled streets still echo your name,

Unfelt, undiscerned by the lessons you gave.

It’s less than simplistic, it’s more than “move on,”

If smiles could speak, I’d tell them they’re wrong.

Time’s rule commands I forget your voice.

I want to hold on but slipping’s not my choice.

My heart hollowed out, my feet light as stone,

I fill it with dirt so I feel less alone.

The walls love to shrink, they feed on my tears

As hours become days that turn into years.

The hole starts its shrinking, I think I can breathe,

But memories pierce it and grief supersedes.

I keep holding on, and it makes me a mess.

What if I only seized the pain I don’t address?

Pushing them back, all it does is make more.

If I can’t bring his footprints, then I’ll swallow the shore.

The walls they are parting, a solid Red Sea,

As years give me time to regain the serene.

The hole starts its shrinking, I think I can breathe,

With each moment passing, I travel the breeze.

My rule commanded I’d heal on my own,

But if I should slip whose hand would I hold?

My heart is not stone, but it’s not made of sheets,

It’s a lockbox of beauty for each person I meet.

The snow-dappled streets still echo your name,

Felt and discerned by the lessons you gave.

It’s more than simplistic, it’s less than “move on,”

But I’m never alone, so I’ll never be wrong.

As long as I know it, you’ll never be gone.