Grief

I assume you are good, grief
I'm in the habit to assume most things
most every day

without thought to the quality of being
in each handoff
almost every day

grief, I assume you are good
needy you cling as though to prove
I cannot wrestle or shirk you away

remain as you will, grief
through the morning plan to be in the garden
early to explore

Shoots the lost one never saw in person
but influence! indeed, with electronic media
at our spoils, we showed and showed

every time I cut open an Avacado
there's a pip rooting in a glass of water
up in Michigan

where am I from or do I belong doesn't matter
I am not living where friends thought right for me
except I am not where I am needed

I fled, remember? Bang a low chord
I fled because everyone backed away or no one could hear me
or the assumption was unavailable to me at home

Grief, you point that out to me
but of your many talons
to assume I was ever unfeeling,

I remain in a state of disbelief
raking leaves, removing debris
and planting sunflower seeds because of course

through disbelief, I want to embrace
never to let the bubble burst
to experience the frank realization

when grief dissipates
above a day spreading long, flat, unending
to be let go of