“So, do you have any siblings?”
A innocent question
Which cuts like a knife.
I panic.
“No.”
“Oh, so you’re an only child?
How was that?”
My heart races.
I make up something
And quickly change the subject.
The guilt of this interaction
Weighs on me for weeks.
Why was I not brave enough?
To claim him, share his story?
After all the people I’ve met
Since he left seven years ago-
Somehow this question
Still does that to me.
Grief is a changeling .
A teacher, a wrecking ball, a friend.
There will always be moments
That shake me to my core.
My prayer is they will guide me
Towards a deeper love.
Tag: poems
-
-
I saw a picture of me
From 7 years ago
A tiny wisp of a thing
Like a strong wind might
Knock me right over.
I took a lot of stock
In that type of thing
Back then.
The less space I took up,
The better.
Now I’ve got pounds
From each of my babies
Clinging to my bones.
My hips, breasts, skin stretched
To accommodate them.
There are days
I relish past memories.
That look, energy, freedom.
Then I remember the miracle
God did with my body
To create this family.
Whatever I thought
Back then
Is but a whisper
Compared to what is now. -
I’ve started to embrace the grey skies
Instead of constant longing for sunshine
That’s where life usually lands
Most days I walk in the fog,
the uncertain conditions
That’s what grief is like
So much good left
Bright white
Splattered with midnight black
Moments that take your breath away
In the midst of intense joy
Your face flitters before my eyes
Your trouble, the sadness
Some say it makes moments sweeter
To know the bitterness
Happy moments aren’t meant to last
Though I do try
Continuum of losses & gains
The dark can shine, too. -
New year, new you
Is too much pressure
What if instead
We are fine wines
Aged, interesting, layered
Do not strip away the old
Clinging to another restart
Mistakes, failures, regrets
Pain, toil, suffering
Give you depth
They make you more valuable
Not less
The sweet aroma
Of perseverance, character, hope
This new year
I am a bold Cabernet
An elegant Malbec
An approachable Pinot
I only get better with time.
Kacie B. Sharpe 