November 9: Inner Space

Grief is a hole that suddenly appears
Protected by an invisible seal,
Hidden, immeasurable, so that one fears
The indefinable may not be real.

And yet it can be felt sporadically,
At times both unforseeable and those
That fall beneath predictability
And half-remembered history- suppose

That curiosity will chip away
The seal, but fear of sadness fills the cracks-
Is grief a thing that thinking can allay
Or is it something everything impacts?

There’s no one way to meaningful goodbye,
Nor is there a convenient time to cry.

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