The chill

Grief is a cold wind blowing

Its ice spreads quickly through the air;

Numbing hands and stinging eyes

Creeping up through veins

Chilling joy to favor despair;

This loss is one of bitter frost.

Its evil a heartbreak we cannot ignore.

My friend; dear child; dear mother;

I have no words to comfort you.

My tears flow freely alongside yours.

I weep for what you have lost.

What bitter pain the cost

For joy you once cautiously sought?

I am still waiting

For your miracle.

Despite what the doctors say

Of a life



For so long I have been certain

That I never did love you.

That so many years were wasted;

My willing ignorance my excuse;

But now I do recall a time,

When I felt more than contempt for you;

I also remember

A betrayal; and how that day

Shaped the rest of our time;

So near the beginning; such a painful crime

My heart shut down that day. It

No longer trusted you. And though

I kept us both ignorant for years from there —

I think I stopped starting to love you


Though I forgave you, I never looked at you the same way


He promises change but it is a phantom

He claims to be different but no fruit ever yields.

Can apples come from a fig tree, or

Grain grow from a dead field?

I am tired in my bones

I have nothing left to sell

My exhaustion, deep and grown

Refuses to let me be still

If nothing changes someone will die

I can’t bear to think of such a


Please change. I’ve lost all faith in you.


I wish I could talk to you, reach out to you once more;

Would it be wrong for me to do so?

Would it be right to yet endure?

I know I could prop you up once more, and

The knitting back together of my own bones is at hand;

I feel sturdy enough to be stepped on again.

It is too bad for you that I have said amen

To such trials. I am not part of your curse


I fear many things, not the least your loss;

Not from me, never from me — a parting I gladly sought —

But from life, less whole than you were meant to be;

From courage, and the ability to see things as they are… truly —

From everything that makes us alive.

I am not convinced what you are living now is a life.


By dawnsleep I dissuade my own riotous flesh

From the mountain it has claimed once again;

And as tangled webs fall, and you break down my walls

I see no safe route for a friend.

Go back, go back; I will not

Be held dear

For this end.