I've been neglecting my blog lately. :(
I just read this poem and thought I'd put it on and realized the last thing I posted was a poem. I was going to wait and then I remembered: it's my blog, I can do what I want! So here you go - another poem!
The Thing Is
By Ellen Bass
to love life, to love it even
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you've held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief sits with you, it's tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
when grief weights you like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief.
You think,
How can a body withstand this?
Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again.