Grief at the Door

A father is shaken.
With unfocused eyes he receives guests
that he cannot see. 
He has been dispossessed of his sight
and his vision.

A mother is cruelly severed from her heart.
Processing the pain would feel like
navigating a barricaded road swept away beneath 
a swelling river.
Her tragedy brings love too,
but she can't feel it. 

Brothers are worlds apart.
Pain and regret are worn openly,
and they grip like a vise.
One folds, one works.
They replay songs that were theirs, 
but they can't hear the words.

A sister, a companion,
an exemplar, a heroine.
She feigns a smile to prevent implosion
She spent days holding him,
but she can't embrace him now.