Grief has a flavor…
burnt toast
(burnt everything)
and hostile aftertaste…
crushed by your departure
I’ve no appetite…
even chocolates
taste of ashes–
And mourning has
no sense of time
it resists scheduling
ignores seasons…
within heart perpetual
calendar pages turn, turn
as mourning wears a style
all its own, regardless
of fashion trend…
elaborate sighs of silk
in pale to pewter shadows gray…
that’s what you bequeathed to me–
~ Cale
https://thedailyspur.wordpress.com/2026/02/07/elaborate-2/
https://thedailyspur.wordpress.com/2026/01/27/sigh/
https://thedailyspur.wordpress.com/2026/01/26/style-4/
https://thedailyspur.wordpress.com/2026/02/05/hostile-2/
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2026/02/07/rdp-saturday-time/
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2026/01/31/rdp-saturday-crush/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2026/02/04/flavor/
so good Cale, gorgeous, grief is like that the description is very accurate! 💜💜
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Thank you so much.
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Very poignant and may I also add, beautiful too!
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Thanks much Punam🌸
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You are welcome, Cale. 🙂
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😊
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