Grief after tacos
This nugget of a feeling
Lodged around the chest cavity
Feels kind of like light angina
It’s not like Thanksgiving grief
Where I’d need a nap
After eating for hours
Although I do grieve over my gluttony
Every November
Tonight
It was the easy shift into older grief
That once was raw and claustrophobic
This feeling of loss that I’m uneasily familiar with
Where we can shift our conversation from refried beans
To when I’m finally going to go through
The stuff of my mom’s
That I couldn’t let go of
But I still can’t seem to face
That tiny bit of unpacked rawness that just sits
In our garage
It’s easy to look over now
It’s become part of my daily scenery
I think what’s scary
Is when I finally unpack it
Will I feel empty or
Will I feel free?
5 thoughts on "Grief after tacos"
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I would venture….. a bit of both….
enjoyed your poem, Michelle ?
Unexpected connection to your grief. It’s been almost a decade and my folks’ stuff remains in garage, attic, basement.
Michelle, you nailed it with this poem. Today I posted one I write everyday for my mother. I hope soon, I will grieve with you and have this problem, too. Loved the sounds and taste of this poem and the question at the end.
you can find my poems under Cleo.
I haven’t faced that particular hardship, yet, but I still feel the pain of it. That’s the mark of a well written poem.