Grief and Its Enterage by Beth Kahmann

Grief greeted me unexpectedly.

Like the other day, when I tipped my toe in a icy cold pool
My mind, as well as my blood was frozen, stymied,
The scene reminded me of a generation of life’s collectible sorrows, all lined up in a row of dominoes, waiting for the first tile, of many accidents, assaults, barrages, ballistics and statistics of fallen human souls in an insanely, archaic savage battering, smatterings of shard glass thrown aimlessly afoot.

Not unlike the slinky that we placed upon the top of our musty, worn out wooden floors. With each step, year after year, catastrophe after calamity, corruption after collision,
Decision after division after dying, and after death.

Grief, then rage filled me and fueled my heart with madness, until I felt like a mummy, entombed in sadness. More than likely, until the day I perish, grief might accompany me on the many trips I take til that final resting place, 'til that final resting place.

©  25 February 2013

About the Author 

Beth is an artist, educator, and is very passionate about poetry.

She owns Kahmann Sense Communications (bethkahmann@yahoo.com).