Lament 6: Grief

I wake sulky, reluctant, 
reviewing my resentments,
lonely, yet
don’t want visitors.

Nothing satisfies:
the sun is too bright;
Our home too quiet.
I want to hide.

Another funeral -
sitting huddled within myself, 
fists clenched, trying not to listen, 
wanting to leave, shaking.

I crave -
a softening in my throat,
eyes that don’t itch,
a conversation no longer available.

Somewhere there is joy,
waiting, perhaps, to
flash through me,
again,

but now I’m grieving.