Larry Smith: “Grief into Mourning”

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Grief into Mourning     

I.
      “Wildflowers don’t care where they grow.”
         -Dolly Parton

A friend has abandoned me
after 40 years, and not
for the first time. Once for five years.
Inside his wall of darkness he has
spit me out like spoiled milk,
and I can’t reach across
to explain. His back turned
he curses my name as he
throws down their phone.
Yet I know he cannot help it.
There is no sin here, only sorrow
and sickness, a grief-pain I carry
inside my head and heart.

And so, I write this to myself
to mourn. In quiet breath
I close my eyes to see his
wounded face in a mirror,
look deep inside his hurt eyes
and step forward to embrace
his figure, as we stand together
breathing forgiveness.

II.
With the taste of grief swelling
my tongue I remember past hurt
keeping us apart. A cherry pie
left out for weeks that I eat with
spoiled milk alone at night.

You said you could never forgive
and so, I walked away, burying it
like a dead child till now
I stare it in the face, swallow regret
and forgive us both.

III.
Placing each stone
beside the bench
where dead friends once sat.

Wild geese overhead
echo their names.

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About the Author: Larry Smith is the editor-publisher of Bottom Dog Press in Ohio, also the author of 6 books of fiction and 8 books of poems, most recently The Pears: Poems. A retired professor of humanities, he lives and works along the shores of Lake Erie in Huron, Ohio.

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More By Larry Smith:

No Walls

Union Town

At The Country Store

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Image Credit: Frances Benjamin Johnson. “Bell Flower (campanula)” [between 1915 and 1935] image courtesy of the Library of Congress