Posted in poetry

Passing

Grief wrapped around me last night,
reminding me of the hardest ache
I’ve learned to live with. I curled
into the bend of the couch, recalling
silly things and finding solace
in the way the night moves.
Loss has lent itself to our family
in the same season it visited last;
the evening makes the same sounds
as it did then: crickets and cicadas
in the distance, cars crawling past
our homes—as if life is to carry on
the way it always does.

Originally published at Poppy Road Review – 3/16/15

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5 thoughts on “Passing

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