grief

I meant to find her when I came;
by Emily Dickinson

I meant to find her when I came;
Death had the same design;
But the success was his, it seems,
And the discomfit mine.

I meant to tell her how I longed
For just this single time;
But Death had told her so the first,
And she had hearkened him.

To wander now is my abode;
To rest,--to rest would be
A privilege of hurricane
To memory and me.

the digital artist is Japi Honoo

~|~ ~|~ ~|~ ~|~ ~|~

i grieve
for lack
of grief,
for sorrows
not forgotten
but displaced

in hours
darkly late
past midnight
before dawn
sleep eludes
and hollow
the reasons
i wake
yet again

I grieve
for memories
that hold
only echoes
the loss
of accompanying
reason in
waking once
and again
the hour
when grief
was born

there should
be something
to fill
this empty
quiet tomb.

~mine 2007/07