Grief Poem

Remembrance 

It is just shy of afternoon

when the grief slams into me

like an aching wave in my abdomen

and a stuck placein my parched throat.

I have not shed many tears

until late one night, the full moon showing,

I awoke, startled, at 2 a.m.and cried out, reaching

not for my father, just passed

but my mother, nine years gone.

My body filled with wracking, heaving sobs,

I stood up blindly, fought my way to the living room

where my husband lay sleeping spread-eagled

on the scratched rust-colored leather couch,

nodding off after a late night’s work.

Drowsily, he enfolded me in his arms.

Sssh, he whispered,

as if he held the wailing infant I once was.