My Word of the Month poem

Hi everyone,

Sorry it has taken so long to write my W.O.M. poem, but here it is, inspired by KEN SLESARIK’s word for November — Grief.

The Hall, the Bridge, the Gate

Grief is a stone-walled hall
where memories of loss echo
from steel-clad bootsteps.

Grief is a bridge across regret
to a place where perspective
softens pain.

Grief is a freshly painted gate,
through which the future lies,
when it's time to open it.

(c) 2022 David L. Harrison 

12 comments on “My Word of the Month poem

  1. Your word for the week seems appropriate in Virginia especially, sandwiched between UVA just down the road and Chesapeake where I once lived.

    I’ve had enough of grief.
    Parents, friends, cousins, strangers
    Murdered, shot dead, killed by disease
    and life habits each grief
    Tinged with regret, sadness,
    anger, the differences
    Matter not, the result is the same.
    I close the door in grief’s face
    Stand it in a corner
    Post it to outer Thule
    The shadow remains
    I do not look at it.

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