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Grey Sparrow Journal

Issue 30, July 31, 2017
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Grief

 

Grief is a room, invisible.

 You are pushed into it.

  For a while, it is the only

   room in your house.


You stumble around.

 No lights. No clocks.

  No windows.

   Empty.

 

When darkness is dark enough—

 enough!—you cross

  the threshold, return

   to the visible world.

 

Dust on your desk,

 on the fruit bowl.

   Kitchen. Remember to eat.

    Living room. Agree to talk.

 

When dust chafes

 your living skin,

  you’ll step outside.

   Sun and wind will be at play

 

and you’ll find yourself smiling.

 Really, I mean find yourself—

  you’ve been lost all this time.

 

You have the whole place back now,

 but that room will always be there,

  and the door will always be open.

 

Patricia McKernon Runkle



Alz

 

Being

          together

 now      is

       like

talking

     in     a

soundproof

               room—

    each

missing

              report

  buried

in        the

 silencing

        wall.

 

Patricia McKernon Runkle