|
I've been writing and have another poem. It is
about grief...the process, and I'm finding I am
letting go of the heavy feeling at times, laughing at
something James has said, or something Bogie is
doing. I do like to write about the feelings of
grief, it helps me to understand and accept
them. |
|
In the Launguage of Grief by T.L. Stokes
I was the only willow in the back yard
of the old house,
and sought to bend as far as my loose arms
would go, sullen brooms
swish, swish, stirring tears with soil over roots
sunken to the first step
of the coffin.
I have walked with the dead for weeks now
holding a mask
because my face has fallen.
I don't mind carrying it this way
while I place prayers and lanterns
on bare arms
after the first storm left
paper hearts bloody and bright
with the glory
of their sudden untethering.
I held your stem
trying to remember the leaf.
***
11/03
|