And so it begins as it has for almost fourteen years: the season of slow descent into remembrance and grief due to loss of my late husband. Yesterday as I sat watching the leaves fall, I wrote this poem:
BREATH
It's so still
You could hear
The breath of a whisper.
Not a leaf stirring
Before the storm;
No sound, no wind:
Fall, a hush of
Silence before the cries.
You left in winter
But that fall was promise
All hope & fulfilled prayers.
Now, every autumn the silence
Reminds me of your voice
Never to speak again;
Quiet, the tears,
The years since you've gone.
----
Year after year. Grief revisited, a loved one never forgotten.
