Sonnet for Grieving
Yesterday is not the day that we count,
Even though it’s a record for our keeping.
All we have lost is now in that drawer.
We hold it tight because it’s all we have.
We pull drawers open, remembering.
We are afraid that if we do not look,
Then we will forget and never come back.
Everything will be gone and we’ll be lost.
Annie was my first family member
To die. It was time and my father cried.
What drawer did he pull open to look?
Did he see Annie’s sister, his mother?
Dad, home from school, found his mom’s suicide.
What’s in that drawer? Pull but don’t confide.
Writing in Sand 