Unobserved Grief
Some deaths are private
Piercing
No seats at a black-clad ceremony
No scent of lilies or potato casserole
No sound of whispers or weeping
Just the pain of each day, each breath
Some grief nobody knows
But the single mourner, soothing
your hair with His nail-scarred palm.
Summer Fernandez Larson is a freelance editor and mother of five mostly grown children. When she isn’t writing or reading, she volunteers as an ESL teacher and takes long walks in beautiful places.
