Dull monochrome sky
Absent pink stripes of winter
Climate-change shades
Haiku: An Unnatural Grief
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Passages
Summertime six years ago
I settled in this space
Unpacked and put my memories
On walls and table tops
In places I found evidence
Of occupant who came before
Tiny holes in closet door
Suggest a place to hang his ties
Apartment life is transitory
I put roots down none the less
Created my new home.
These past six years began a tale
Chapters of unexpected change
So many things I used to do
No longer are within my reach
My apartment is the same
It is I who have a different view
I will re-member cherished gifts
Grieve and lay them to the side
Look out the window at the tree
Watch pink clouds at early dawn
Embrace anew life’s mystery.
Strange Grief
Two husbands I have put behind me
Two marriages spent in years that equal half my life
I did not grieve exact dates of their ending
I do not grieve today their rich existence
Divorce, for me, resulted in mixed blessings
Quite a different shade of grief
My weddings both were days of joy
Expectations of forevermore
Promises to ensure our future
Constancy in good times and in poor
Lovely dreams spun from an illusion
Not accounting for realities ahead
Living showered me with gifts and challenges
A fifties girl whose eyes were opened wide
Even now I feel the swell of my adventures
Surging through my heart with every breath
Grief put aside I count my every blessing
Beginning with three sons and my grandchildren
Becoming an independent woman
Economic struggles trained me well
After trial and error I discovered
Life as a solitary is not half bad
Lately I received my gift – the poet
Who lives within me and who is my friend.
Many couples married or unmarried
Share a special precious golden bonding
Create a unit multiplying love
I grieve such a companion to grow old with
Not finding this for me I made a choice
I grieve – but I do not regret
Communal Candles
This morning when I went to church I was not handed the usual bulletin for the worship service. Following the events of the past week we were gathered to lament the acts of blind hatred and fear that have pierced our nation’s heart. Like spontaneous expressions of grief pictured in the daily newspapers and online we lit candles in silence, shed our tears, prayed and sang. A young black boy was sitting close to me. I wept to think of what his future might be just because of the color of his skin. I grieve for the soul of America. I’m thankful for a time to pray and cry with other people. And to feel a flickering of hope.
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