Grief is a solitary room,
a place you sit in alone.
Over time that room stretches;
grief becomes a shared landscape,
the mourned being landscape itself—
not gone, but part of the air
that settles around each connection.
It turns into a kind of weather
you move through
and breathe.
.
-
Author:
crypticbard (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: February 10th, 2026 05:41
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 1
- In collections: 2026.
Offline)
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.