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The Suitcase

Unpacking all that it can carry,
grief takes up residence in my thoughts
choosing the spaces where it wants to be
It’s not being rude, or intentionally unkind

Love, the ensemble it brings,
much in need of mending,
seeks to be worn. Time, the tailor,
will do what is needed

The attire, brightly colored again,
buttoned close to me for warmth
as love perseveres

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Last few words: 
Grief seems open for business 24/7, as it pleases.
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

I have the suitcase lying at my feet, my mother passed away recently, and Grief comes to sit on my lap at the most unexpected times. Just walks up and puts an arm around my shoulder, like we are old friends. I am not sure if I should be upset with it and try to make it go away, or let it stay until it tires of me and goes away on its own. This poem makes me feel like that. You have done your job, made me think and feel.
That is the poet's job. ~ Geezer.
.

Writing purely for oneself, is the ultimate in defensive posture.

Beautiful thoughts Geez, thank you for sharing them. Glad you liked the piece.

Best

Michael Anthony

author comment

Hi, Michael,
I love the idea of time being a tailor - mending, repairing and healing. So true.
Thank you,
L

Thanks, as always L. Appreciate you stopping by.

Best

Michael Anthony

author comment
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