Poem 7. Grief, a persistent stalker. by Stevie Dufyn

Grief, a persistent stalker.

Stevie Dufyn, December 2020

A child is born, and eight years later is dead.
Grief, they say, gets easier over time.
They are wrong. That 8 year old
Would now be fifty four, with children and grandchildren.
So a grief trebled.

A child not born, or miscarries
Might-have-been children, a daughter, a son
A dream, a hope, a future, redirected.
Or a child born who might have been a friend
But decided otherwise.

A mother, once an artist and carer
Found an imaginary family
But lost her own for twenty years
As they sadly saw her disintegrate.
Compounding the grief.

A wife, planning a life with a husband of her choosing
Hearing the knock on the door with the news
That she no longer has a husband.
Grief, they say, gets easier over time.
They are wrong.

Grief is a stalker, striking when not expected.
When reading a book, or watching a film,
Or hearing a song, or talking with a friend,
Grief breaks down the myth of control
After a year, a decade, a lifetime…

Grief, they say, gets easier over time.
They are wrong.

 © Stevie Dufyn December 11, 2022.