The Distance of Grief

Grief looks different from afar
As we drift on time,
Carried Further from the eye of the storm
The darkness of the clouds gets less stark
The wind, less biting
The rain, no longer drowns
But still, even from afar
The thunder still rumbles
The darkness is still visible
And you wonder
Always wonder
If the wind will blow it back your way.

AUTHORS COMMENTARY

This was written in March 2024, two years after the even that I allude to in the storm. I was reflecting on how different it felt, this far forward, and how grief's feeling changes with the passage of time. Yet even in that reflection, you're still never sure if it's gone for good, or if it will be back.