Grief

I remember black covering everything, like the soft stroke of a black cat rubbing against us. black cars, black clothes, black coffin, black hole in the earth. I remember streaks of light reflected on cheeks; like veins of silver on the walls of a dark cave; I remember the deafening silence from each of us; lost inside the largeness of a vacuum from which we could not see our way out. Mostly, there was just stillness in the air that enclosed us all like a tomb.