these days, as my waters are untroubled,
I wonder about my old friend the fisherman
I haven’t seen him for a few weeks
maybe I can do something to be prepared
next time he visits
the fool in me thinks to be overwhelmed
by Grief can be prevented

Grief must feel out of place, in the prairies
so far away from the fisher village of his youth
and the tide pools, and the fresh oysters

on a day under clear skies, I venture out
to where the birds sing most tenderly
there I find Grief perched on a boulder, brooding
once more I see traces of love still visible in a handmade woolly hat

years ago, as my heart was aching, I saw
a necklace on him, holding a golden wedding band,
too small even for his little finger
and I just knew the carvings on his bones
from a love that was lost

I took him to the sea
from the corner of my eye I could see his past
running by as we drove for days

you should have seen the expression on his face
when he laid his eyes upon the waves
and breathed in the salty horizon
Grief stood by the sea and cried years worth of tears