Dad came for a visit
and we discussed laundry soap
in my dream.
He didn’t ask about Mom,
and I didn’t tell him.
poem-torn February 1, 2016
There at the bottom of the bag
is that precious photo
of the beloved man, now gone.
You have torn it into shreds,
torn my respect for you,
torn my love of you,
torn my heart in two.
It was not enough that he adored
and worshipped you?
You were blinder than him,
though he had the account with CNIB.
Your bitterness is poison
and I will not drink it.
poem-scent January 27, 2016
Your sweater is here
and if I breathe deeply enough
I’m in the scent of your embrace.
poem-anniversaries January 25, 2016
Another anniversary
Half way through the first year of your absence.
You smile out from your photo
and my memory.
poem-vacant January 19, 2016
How strange
that this space that was always filled by you
is vacant now.
Some time,
I don’t know when,
you stopped paying rent and disappeared.
Now the corner where you lived
has fallen into disrepair
and when I look for what used to be
I see only
moldy fragments in the space
that was yours.
poem-today January 15, 2016
Grief today
is not like yesterday’s;
today it’s a ball, lodged deep in the throat,
instead of yesterday’s hovering cloud.
Tomorrow grief may be rain washing away every thought,
or the laughter of melancholy memories or perhaps
I won’t be able to keep tears at bay.
It’s impossible to say.
Grief is complicated,
that way.
poem-wanderer December 28, 2015
Death walks softly
cloaked in invisibility.
You rose from bed,
settled in your chair,
and Death tapped you on the shoulder;
bid you follow.
But you said, “Wait,
I have something to do.”
You closed your eyes, and arrived in my room.
I felt you there, befuddled and lost, and so I told you
To move toward the light,
I told you I loved you.
I told you to say hello to Grandma and Grandpa.
And you tracked the light, through my bedroom door
up through my roof, and I looked at the clock: 8:37
The moment you left for heaven.
poem-absent December 21, 2015
I hear your voice I see your smile
I’m glad you’re here to sit a while,
but when I turn around I see
that you are only memory.
So Christmas has come and you are gone
and day by day life still goes on;
though you are free from earthy pain,
Your absence grieves my heart again.
poem- addressing memories November 1, 2015
Turning pages in the address book
cross a line across another entry.
Turning pages
studying the names crossed out
A memorial of friends and family gone
Greetings sent in murmured prayers
to rest in peace.
poem-Grief 101 October 25, 2015
Today you would be 101
Three months gone
Grief still takes me by surprise
a slice of pain hidden in the guise
of a song, or a day, or a vision.
I still see your sparkling eyes,
I hear your voice saying my name,
You became a hundred and one
times a hundred and one memories
and grief still weeps off each one.
Shawn L. Bird 