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August 23, 2010, 8:44 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: Culture, Grief, Home, Literature, Poems, Poetry

What
is the grief
in this house?

Some mournful dream
Left out in the cold

a child never born

a life always hoped for
never quite lived?

Rewound and Re-wounded
tossed back
but never quite swept up.

What is the sadness
in this place–
a gift still warm,
wrapped in tinfoil,
or
a memory boiling over,
on a set table
left empty?

Ushered out
welcomed in

without thinking,

“Take
a seat.“

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