Grieving should have left by now,
that pain with which we live
and hold inside
until it begins to erode
a person’s soul.
Much like the tarnish
that covers Grandma’s silver,
that Grandma didn’t realize
she’d spend so many years
polishing it,
yet she continued to polish.
But I no longer grieve
as I sit alone on the bench
that Grandfather had made
so many decades ago,
the one he carved out of logs,
special ones that were grown
somewhere on his thousand acres.
Once he told me that I was not to grieve,
for it is a selfish emotion
that allows only one’s heartbreak
to continue forever more,
yet it gives nothing in return.
© Patricia Jeffress aka pattyann4500
February 24, 2007
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