“There’s plenty of fish in the sea,” says she,
drawing a blade to cut the line.

“I’m hooked to this fish!” protests I,
begging her not to.

~ Inori

There’s this grief
simmering underneath.
Steady and ignorable,
or - boiling and unmistakable.
There’s no going back
but the grief is there.
Tangled grief for two -
husband lost long ago,
and a love that brought me to life.
Grief for my innocent self
that slammed up hard against his
mental illness —
and lost.
I know
the actions I take now
will frame life going forward.
It’s just that, sometimes,
relief from the grief
is so tempting.

Safe and sound
That town is drowned

You’re safe and sound
A king decrowned
You can’t stay

But you’re safe and sound
You’re lost and found
Come what may

You’re safe and sound
That town is drowned
Walk away

Throw it away
All your backyard dreams
Are miscreations
Laughing in your face
While you wait
Through unwelcome change
Untrue elation
And chance appreciation

It already came

We do not say the word love
it is ice we dare not tread for fear of cracking

We say:
Care, cherish, treasure, admire

To say love would be jump into
The fullness of emotion that lies beneath the ice