Grief
is a snake. It moves
sideways in curves.
It lurks, half hidden
under fallen leaves,
the fear of facing it
more frightening than
the thing itself. It ambushes
you, out of nowhere, as you
try to resume walking
the ordinary path of your life.
You will spend your life not
knowing when it will sink
its teeth into your flesh,
discharge its venom.
2 thoughts on "Grief"
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Oh, Gwyneth, this is masterful – your descriptions are spot on for the manifold ways of grief.
Agree with Nancy.
Love: ‘its teeth into your flesh,
discharge its venom.”