Thursday, December 8, 2022

NEW GRIEF

Though this pain which 
now blooms like a 
purplish bruise 

is both 
indescribably yours 
and new, 

rest assured 
that the black mouth of woe 
from which it sprung 

is everyone's
to plumb, and is
terribly old—for none

are loved more 
than those lost 
to our sight, and 

no truth bites
the living like: 
"everything dies."