Grief is a son to no mother,
a nomad stuck in place,
complacent to the path forward,
a slave to the porcelain touch
of an outstretched hand
but left only to sweep dry rose petals,
long withered and crumbling,
slipping from in between the pages
that kept this love whole.
Sep 29, 2022
Sep 29, 2022 at 4:56 PM UTC
Grief is a son to no mother,
a nomad stuck in place,
complacent to the path forward,
a slave to the porcelain touch
of an outstretched hand
but left only to sweep dry rose petals,
long withered and crumbling,
slipping from in between the pages
that kept this love whole.
Written in September 2022
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