Grief

I stumble into the room,
fumbling over sensible greetings
mustering a sense of authority
when in reality, I pretend.

I look straight into your eyes,
daughter you never had,
in another life, elder
today, my patient

                                                                            kind of.

There is a lull and a pause
More than you’re used to...

Perhaps it is my soft voice,
the vacuum between us
but you pour into me

                                                                 long lost dreams,

                                   slowing of your body

                                                    a bittersweet gratitude

life anchored in the angel of death.

someone listens
Tears bound by bravado,
finally free

Thank you for being so vulnerable with me.
Thank you for letting me.