We do not talk about her passing.
That is settled language.
you complain about the undercooked soup,
the soggy hambone beside the crockpot
dripping on brown butcher paper
as if it were our lives
You still believe in unseen things
which, once seen
become clutter
Ask when there is nothing
grief is not nothing
Ordinary Handsome 
Beautiful and tragic at the same time. ❤️
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Thank you, Suzanne. 🙂
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I was moved by your poem. I don’t think we ever really know what to do with grief.
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So true. Thanks for reading, Liz. 🙂
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This following quote from your poem made me stop to think. Your profound writing usually gives me a lot to think about, and this is a good thing. Happy New Year, Steven.
It’s true, isn’t it:
“You still believe in unseen things
which, once seen
become clutter”
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Thank you, Mary, I appreciate that. Happy New Year to you as well. 🙂
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It is very hard to talk about death; almost anything is easier
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Yes it is. Thank you.
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This matches my experience as a griever and as a grief counselor. Profoundly insightful and moving, Steven. We talk about grief in metaphors.
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Thank you, Diana. The season, I suppose, magnifies the loss. I think I’ve been writing about grief for a long time now, this piece being the most plain about it. Here’s to a good and healthy new year. All the best to you and yours, dear.
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So sad and moving. Awesome, Steven.
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Thanks so much, Priscilla.
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This was incredibly moving, Steven.
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Thank you, Lenora.
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