A January day that lives forever

In my head —
      I’ve tried a million
      times to go back
      to that day —
tried to change
      my choices
begged a do-over
      from the universe
I’ve crippled myself with
      guilt
      sorrow
thrashing the quicksand
      sinking in
      layers of grief
fighting a sticky web
      trapped in
      regret-regret-regret
I don’t even care about
      my own
      broken heart
I’m sorry
      I broke yours

—Terri Guillemets, 2019 November 24th

Memories shiver

Why does cold weather refresh old griefs?
      More quiet for reflection?
      Longer nights to lay awake?
Like citrus, grief is a winter fruit.

—Terri Guillemets, 2019 November 24th

Clouds out my window

Ever seen an August cloud in July? —
deliciously bright puffy white striations
on a sky the bluest blue this side of Rigel.
The earth is still living in steamy summer
but these lovely lingering clouds distinctly
belong to the early edges of autumn.

—Terri Guillemets, 2019 July 31st

Goosebumps

A flock of honking geese
just flew over my city backyard
goosebumps, I got goosebumps
never, ever have I seen this
beautiful feat of nature from
my own little speck I call home
for an awesome morning moment
all my human burdens forgotten

—Terri Guillemets, 2019 July 31st

This time last year

The shadows are falling the same as they were last year
The early summer calm sounds the same as it did last year
As it did at this same time last year, when the babies died
When the babies died, and the mama grieved for days.

—Terri Guillemets, 2019 May 27th