beneath the covers
if you’re going to fall in love
with living
you have to accept that grief will be
a frequent visitor
showing up at odd times
key in hand
bulging black suitcase tossed
at her feet
you might even
become friends
brew her tea and bake
some cookies
put a vase of red tulips
by her bed
she won’t stay forever but
she won’t ever leave
and after a while
you begin to clear out
a drawer in a dresser
some space in your closet
and then you’re mates
sharing space
in a house of one hundred
barren rooms
passing hours and days
without an encounter
but you hear her at night
rattling heartache and stain
and eventually
find yourself listening
with a crinkled up smile
as you lie with a quilt
built from stitched over
memory and faded thin
patches
of once was
and gravity’s chain
.
.
.
A poem a day for 30 days, in honor of National Poetry Month. Day 11
I’m participating in NaPoWriMo, and Writer’s Digest Poem a Day Challenge.
.
April 11th, 2015 at 1:40 pm
she won’t stay forever but
she won’t ever leave
not the real hook here, or perhaps the most visual of your fine lines, but those words just struck me–the whole poem from start to the close is so wonderfully mixed of sorrow and acceptance–and your use of metaphor never falters.
April 11th, 2015 at 2:25 pm
Oh, wow, Kelly. Astonishing, brilliant.
April 12th, 2015 at 3:24 am
I picture this clearly ~