Grief the silver thread
a shiny, slippery chord
that threatens to snap
and suspend me mid-air
legs dancing in fear the Tango,
hanging,stripped of support,splayed.
Grief the master puppeteer
pulling the strings.
Today’s adult attempt at
calm and recollect
ends with make up smeared,
humiliation further feared.
Grief the great unpredictable
a blackmailer always wanting more
Cunning, forgetting what you paid last week.
Grief forces the tears I must allow to
fall into a quick sand
wait for the cavalry to land.
Remembrance is a faint voice
an invite to the foot of the blank canvas.
A warm cottage ablaze with light
Memory stretching itself
over you like a protective cloak
As a mother wraps her child for school.
You can’t stay in grief’s lair
you have nothing more to learn.
If you overstay your welcome
forgotten faces will dance and dart
mock and jeer
‘can’t get yourself out of here!’.
Remembrance is an opened door
a window ajar beside a fireplace
escape from ashes of grief and
bitter winds that would tear the traveller
to pieces if they couldn’t settle
awhile and Remember.
RMEMME Rachel ME McKenzie (c) 2017