Mourning Meditation – A Poem

 

Mourning Meditation

Clouds unveiled by a limping sun.
The sky is split. Blue. Grey.
Fuck it. And the god damn spring flowers.

I listened to the rain begin
yesterday evening. Through my
window I could hear those first
fat tentative drops lightly
fall on the bushes and in the grass
and over the hard earth. It was
comforting.
Voiceless moments
passing.

I reach for my glass of water
but grab a beer bottle instead.
Outside the shed is falling apart.
Toys and tools sheltered
hazardly in its dilapidation.

A mourning meditation. That’s all.
Inhale. Drink.
Exhale. The edge of a
universe. Shoes left at the back door.
Drink.
It’s all just bullshit.
And wonderment.

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6 thoughts on “Mourning Meditation – A Poem

    • Hopefully it kicks it off in a good way. And I am not sure if you told me lately, but it is not something I tire of hearing, so please freely express it as often as you like. Thank you for the compliment! Also, it is good to know there is someone I can speak the subtle language of the Sweedish Chef with.

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