grief

 

A sense of loss seeped into life’s cracks
unnoticed at first
as her illness stalked her body.
A cough, shortness of breath,

unnoticed at first.
She would feel better and then
a cough, shortness of breath
lingered longer until it seemed sudden.

She would feel better and then
it was too late, her illness
lingered longer until it seemed sudden,
her body no longer able to carry on.

It was too late. Illness
took her from me,
her body no longer able to carry on,
and the cracks became a crater.

Illness took her from me,
left me unprepared for
the cracks that became a crater
I could not avoid,

left me unprepared for
the rough ride over broken pavement
I could not avoid
although I tried to swerve.

The rough ride over broken pavement
an experience I didn’t ask for –
I tried to swerve,
hoping someone would patch grief’s hole.

This experience I didn’t ask for
thundered tears, washed away loosened bonds.
I hoped someone would patch grief’s hole
and smooth it over.

Thundering tears washed away loosened bonds,
but I can never forget the now-absent.
The hole can be smoothed over
but it’s impression will last forever.

I can never forget the now-absent.
I wondered what good can come
from this impression that forever
dissolved the glue that held us together.

I wondered what good can come
as her illness stalked her body
and dissolved the glue that held us together,
as a sense of loss seeped into life’s cracks.

©2023 Kenneth W. Arthur