When I was told

that you

were

gone,

I was on soil that

did

not

know me.

I could not say

goodbye,

or

I

am

sorry

and

I

will

miss

you.

I sat

with grief

in

the

snow,

heart

and fingers

raw.

Unpacking

a lifetime

of

where

to

now,

and

unreconciled

denials

and

regrets.

And

I wonder

if all the

water

that

spilled

from

me,

that also

contained

bits

of

you,

has

nourished the

splinters

of grief

that I unwillingly

planted

there

and

would

I

be

recognised

on my return

to

find

what I have

somehow

left

behind.

— Grief. Linköping, 2007.

© Liezel Graham 2018.