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