|
| |
When Grief Turns To Grave
No one told me the moment you parted.
My disheartened heart left the room the moment I turned the corner,
and saw his golden badge as he nodded in comforting dismay.
That day
My heart learned the rhythm of grief
Slow
Sickly
The kind that brings you past your knees,
and drives you six feet underground.
Who needs two burials in one day?
Copyright ©
Rebecca Kiser
|
|