Live From Life
Losing a friend
to these woods,
he sits down
hard with grief.
He pulls the
salmonberries,
loose from green,
and he eats.
It can be
that eating is
like crying;
he growls deep.
He will hunger
for days yet;
the hillside
holds his tears.
I'm reminded of this piece, as I clocked in my 3rd morning in a row having leftover birthday cake for breakfast ... and yet, my hunger and grief still growl deep.
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Amor