3-minute poem at reverendmother

mourning snowfall

will it be every year
around This Time
that the grief floats down,
soft and insistent,

gripping every waiting surface
with unseen crystalline claws,

accumulating in fresh heaps
for all the world to see?

i fall down into its stinging embrace,
flail about,
and look for the imprint of an angel
to guide me onward.

for dad, 5/14/47 - 1/28/03

Published by reverendmother 3 years, 7 months ago in dad, grief, poetry

1 Mamala Jan 22nd, 2005 at 11:59 pm

I wish he was still here for you (us).
2 Martha Jan 23rd, 2005 at 3:09 pm

Still happens to me…

My dad, 9/29/20-10/8/97

gone too fast for goodbye
3 Liddy Jan 23rd, 2005 at 4:20 pm

That’s a beautiful poem. Thank you!

It’s been almost three years since I lost my mom. Every year the drifts seem a little smaller, but I think it’ll always snow.

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