BY JOHN DONLAN
John Donlan is a poetry editor with Brick Books. Copyright rests with the author.
Thank You, Grief
Grief, I’m tired of your visit today
shuffling your faded photographs of the dead
who will never hear my apologies;
your private viewings of women I loved
and lost, somehow;
even my cats and dogs, their tiny bones
mouldering in old towels and blankets under back gardens
across Canada –
Grief, this is too much!
You’re hiding something. This pain near my heart
pierces my shoulder blade: it hurts to move,
to live. Each injury
heals slower than the last.
Thank you, Grief: you’ve reminded me of my death
and that I prefer the lost past to the lost future
and when this little pain ends so will you.