Waiting

Grief comes at odd moments. I sit to write a jaunty tale, but my pen records my heart, not my mind.

I sit very still, waiting, praying someone will come
And wake me from this cruel sleep.
The news came today; it sits like a boulder, heavy on my chest.
Immovable, pressing, my heart has no space to beat,
My lungs no room to breathe.
Sudden, like an invasion, it thunders in
Crushing, rolling over me with iron treads.
Not an army. Only this rock, hard, heavy, unrelenting weight,
Crushing me.
Above me, cloudless skies burn my eyes with merciless beauty.
Across the park, distant laughter,
Children's happy voices, stun my silence.
So normal. How can these things be?
He is gone, and once again I am left alone.
No, this is not real. I will awaken and hear his voice.
I sit very still, but no one comes to wake me.

Reviews

[Duncan Brown]

France volled...............................................................................................................................was