Pardon My Grief

How does one grieve for a living soul

Whose eyes are open

Soul closed

Ever shrinking from the light of knowing

In a cataract blurred reality of who of what of why


Capped Ice pursuing life pushing down life

Polar darkness pilfering all pulmonary exhalations

Can life survive down there?

In the cold, suffocating abyss that presses

O’ Cryogenic geriatric! Are you there?


Held suspended ever shriveling ever shivering never seeing

Through the swamp of failing fluids

Choking down memories like cough serum

Seeping bitter dregs strained past their taste

How can life survive being thusly alive?


Can I grieve at this while you remain un-here unheard?

I do not mean to demean such suffering.

This is my grief in stasis.



by Karen Sullivan

Form: Elegy




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