Poem: Grief Is

A photo I took the other morning when the moon still lingered.

My latest five-line original poem.

Grief Is

grief is the pathfinder with foggy eyes, knowing not where to
lead you, or where you might end up, but only promising
that you’re on a path of a kind, where the vines of the tree
kiss your ankles, life teems in the felled trunks, and where
your lungs rise and fall with the breath of the moon above.

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