Place no limits on this grief of mine–
don’t try to cheer me out of feeling sorrow.
I need to wear it for a longer time,
and won’t be ready to let go tomorrow.
The ragged tears that burn and sting my eyes,
the knot that’s tied inside my throat and chest,
are raiment needed for the long good-bye,
and bind me to the soul that’s laid to rest.
And so I wear a shroud of blackest black,
and wrap myself in aching disbelief–
knowing when I last discard my cloak,
our closeness severs. I’ll be sadly free.
So long as I can bear to wear my grief,
I stay united with the life so brief.
#grief #dying #babyboomers #timepassing #poetry
