beneath the covers

if you’re going to fall in love
with living
you have to accept that grief will be
a frequent visitor
showing up at odd times
key in hand
bulging black suitcase tossed
at her feet

you might even
become friends
brew her tea and bake
some cookies
put a vase of red tulips
by her bed

she won’t stay forever but
she won’t ever leave
and after a while
you begin to clear out

a drawer in a dresser
some space in your closet
and then you’re mates
sharing space
in a house of one hundred
barren rooms

passing hours and days
without an encounter

but you hear her at night
rattling heartache and stain

and eventually
find yourself listening

with a crinkled up smile
as you lie with a quilt
built from stitched over
memory and faded thin
patches
of once was
and gravity’s chain

.

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A poem a day for 30 days, in honor of National Poetry Month. Day 11
I’m participating in NaPoWriMo, and Writer’s Digest Poem a Day Challenge.
 

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