Grief

If you asked me what grief meant
two months ago
I would recite the five stages
 words slipping off my tongue
like time

I would put my hands on my waist
and perhaps ask how you are
your family and loved ones
I would not understand

I knew no grief
and then suddenly I did

it made its descent upon my shoulders
its feathery wings made of hope
taken from those it touched

it clawed open my eyes
scratching and tearing
and I could not see that you were gone

every day  became a tasteless lump of nothing
morphing into a grey sludge
and all I could do was finish my plate

 I thought grief was finally satisfied
with unraveling my character
the thin layers
of my heart

and then grief perched itself upon my shoulders, began to whisper
why why why why why why why
the ebbing and flowing of time
the way I cannot comprehend loss
why

suddenly the bird took its wing
placed me underneath the leathery interior
and I began to cry
for the first time

the first rains of season
playing in the puddles
wellingtons and rubber hats
smell of fresh grass
blossoms
watermelon seeds

Time became seasons
seconds became building blocks of time
my damaged eyes finally could see despite the tears and holes

I knew nothing about grief
Until

 I began to feel alive again