Starlight in a Scarf

January was cold

with the scent of funeral flowers

and moldy gray clouds

strangling blue sky.

Grief swam through my veins

like an Olympic swimmer.

Hungry tears chased me

to the edge as if bleak

was a gold medal.

I can’t say time heals.

I’m in the rawness of losing my Dawn.

Each day is heavy, my voice hoarse with why.

Yet, like her name she comes with light

to candle me through my darkest days.

I feel her urge me toward healing,

tell me to go into the space of joy

creating brings me.

In the days when I’m stuck, I don’t

want to shower, to eat, to talk,

I walk to one of her photographs

to let myself feel her freedom.

She is where she has no pain,

in the arms of her Daniel,

a starlight woman leaving notes

on my heart of courage and love.

Today I sit among her scarves

braiding myself into moments

of love, of her presence, of her strength

to push forward when circumstances

taunt me with, “Just give up”.

Dandelion Breaths