Poem- Your grief my grief

Your grief    my grief

stricken open

until all the wounds are one

I have loved    You have loved

Is there anything else
delicate wounded one
difficult loved one

Watch out!
Explaining
skates to the edge

overlooks vast opportunity:
black ice   proud perfection–

once cut, leaves slashes
on the faces
underneath.

© Copyright 2024 Beatrix Gates