It will haunt her
the favorite pencil
tip softened just so...
paw pushed it
somewhere to a secret spot
out of vision, her reach
a peice of paper elusive
yet there...
lodged deep amidst
a stack of most important things

She does not lose well...

Not in terms of games or competition
but the things in her life
that envelop her world
tough n' scrappy
beautiful n' tender
holding all things dear
close to her heart
Loss is a place of 
deepest contemplation
Her memories
are vibrant, alive

She does not lose well

creatures and people
that are immersed
in her life
even one pulled out leaves
like a building block
A tear
A gap
A hole in her life

She does not forget
or minimize the
pertinance of
freindship
love
A moment that has
touched her heart

When it is time for
the loss
the breaking of her heart
can be felt
through
time
space

The moment
becomes filled
With rainbows of light
She will bathe in that beam...
helps guide them home

She trusts in the divine
finding there solice
amidst the
flutterings of
her tender, broken heart
Grief shrouds her
A mystical veil
that holds her dearly
as the pain
becomes bearable
she will begin
to tell her stories
once again

~ Christi Michaels ~ June 2014~