Renee Writes

Grief saunters up, cocky bastard,
and without even saying hello,
takes sloppy bites out of my day,
lets the juice of the pie spill out and waste.

Leaves so little for me to offer
the others who need fed – work and friendships
and home and pets and – always last at the table –
Endeavors of joy.

Every day, I mean to feed them more.
They’ve been so patient when all I’ve had for them is
crumbs. I know they can’t subsist like this forever.
But Grief demands the first bite, his appetite limitless.

Some mornings I hide away the new day’s bread,
determined to save it for myself
and the parts of my life I want to feed.
Some days it works – Grief must be eating elsewhere for a change.