This grief
That seeps into
And out of me these days
Carries the weight of worry.
Vacillating between
A frozen melancholy and
A burning panic,
Its heaviness is
Impossible to remove
From my awareness.
The chills draw my
Head to my chest,
Tucking like a bird
Tucks under its wing.
The sweats leave a
Smelly ooze of
Anxious fear mingled
With unknowing dread.
How, oh how,
Can someone who shares
My humanness —
This blood that flows through veins
And skin that holds in
Ligament,
Muscle,
Sinew, and
Bone —
Ignore the beauty of
The earth we live
(And sometimes thrive)
Upon;
Give such venom to other
People;
Rain hurt on anyone
Perceived
As “less-than”; and
Value self-aggrandizement more than
Love?
Because I don’t have
A satisfactory answer
To my own question,
This grief is what I have.
~ spontaneously created by Stan Stewart
~ Copyright 2019 by Stan Stewart and muz4now, inc. All rights reserved.