dear grief – 8

There’s nothing quite as sobering as grief,
to uncover the guilt and sin,
the grime within,
there’s no teeth gritting,
no blood spitting,
that can remove the angst from your jaw,
or the taste from your mouth.

I’ve found in all this haunting,
a special fondness,
a familiarity,
we all smother with inattention.

To look at death,
and not worry about the ghosts,
takes a spiritual anchoring,
a maturing,
a purge,
of all you fear,
an embrace,
so the memory of the deceased,
remains near.

W.E.

One thought on “dear grief – 8”

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