A Saturday offering—a bit of a reflective piece.

Grief Never Dies

I grieved the litter of kittens
who died beneath the mud floor
of the old red barn—

birthed in trying circumstances 
with sunday school refrains 
playing on the radio,

buried in the garden—
discordant mews silenced 
by a rousing gospel chorus;

now the kitties are settled 
into the terra firma—
and I am older and wiser—

and still grieving.

—Carla Jeanne Picklo Jordan

May the winds of grief move you forward.