The grandmother weeps
when visiting the graveyard,
feeling regretful.
…
The beloved, gone.
Utterly heartbreaking grief.
Beyond any words.
To lose a loved one,
to hatred fueled by greed, fear.
Pain like no other.
…
Holocaust horrors.
Flame, ember, cinder, ashes
char the grandchildren.
A star of David
shows up in her dreams, doodles,
when calm, glad, mad, sad.
…
Grieving is grueling,
even when faced with grace, grit.
Even when grateful.
…
Yesterday we grieved.
Tomorrow we may suffer.
What about today?
…
The weeping widow
sits by the lake, shaded by
the weeping willow.
…
The grieving widow
still breathes, eats, drinks, sleeps, walks, works.
Deep hole in her heart.
…
The death was painful.
Her grief chafes, shakes, sways, stirs all.
Makes her feel wobbly.
Went on a road trip.
The mountains lift her spirits.
Make her feel stronger.
…
This summer season,
she dared to venture out there.
Sun, shade, shore, shorts, self.
She stands tall and stares.
Foam, ripples, waves, horizon.
In awe of it all.
…
She is strong and sage.
Also, a hurting human.
Time to grieve, receive.
…
After the grief group
he brought peaches to their doors.
Kindness soothes pain.
…
Grief, grace, found good friends
in her voice and his guitar.
Hearts in harmony.
…
Sits by the window
in the dusty, humming house.
Dragonflies visit.
…
Two table settings,
faithful candlelight vigil.
One widow, waiting.
…
If only you knew
how I miss you, yearn for you,
would you come back home?
…
Who brighten, sweeten
the sad widow’s lonesome days?
Her dear grandchildren.
