Grief Looks This Way Sometimes
(Image credit to Kristel Koukoua using Canva.com Magic Design AI Image Generator, 2026) I see you, Grief, sitting there across the room. Your shoulders are dropped and serene, Your countenance, hidden from me by your impartial cheek, I know to be calm, patient. Sometimes, I think I've moved on from your visits, Healing and processing each new loss with experience, The deep knowing that we heal and life moves on. Then, a scent, a phrase, a taste, a texture, a sound, And suddenly, Grief, you look at me with those eyes deep as the caverns of the deep, The silent streams of sorrow pouring down your visage, And I am transported to those moments, Those scenes from days gone by. Sometimes, the memories are mixed with pain and hurt. Sometimes, they spark deep joy and laughter. Sometimes, they feel like a sharp, twisting dagger point. Sometimes, they smolder and burn with leftover anger at injustice. Once the torrent passes and the droplets, too, have ceased, Grief, you smile at me with a ...