Grief

While pierced with the pain of missing my sister, I wrote this poem.

With stealth, grief prowls

in the shadows of my mind

like a hunter

    lurking

        stalking

            waiting

For just the right moment

to release its arrow

from a tightly strung bow

to pierce my consciousness

mid stride

    I falter

        waiver

            bite my lip and turn away

to hide my tears

and falling face

until I can smile again,

shoving back memory's dart

and spurning it's bold sting

    and proclaim

       

            I am fine

Except in the shadows of my mind.

Janet Muirhead Hill