“On the outskirts of every agony sits
some observant fellow who points.” Virginia Woolf
Grief is not a thing to climb over.
It’s a heart crawling through shadows searching for sunlight.
It is a harsh assumption sorrow
has a generic course or allotted days to wane.
When one breaks in a thousand pieces
there’s a sea of horizons the spirit has to sail.
©Susie Clevenger 2019
Landay poem...Couplet- 9 syllables first line, 13 syllables second line.