The shape of
heavy tears
streaking down,
earthwards,
journeying to
find our loved ones
faces, again
The shape of
trembling lips
the very moment
we recall their
forevermore absence
as we write the date,
on this day
their birthday
The shape of the
book on the shelf
in the store,
the book he’d love,
the one about airliners;
the book I wrench from
my hand,
trancelike remembering
I cannot gift it to my
late father
We never know which shape
our grief may take
until we feel it
grabbing firm our heart,
rendering us
lost, unanchored, adrift.
Empty.
Only then will the
shapeshifting end.
Judith Staff
Judith Staff’s background is in teaching and early years education. She still teaches occasionally, though now her main focus is in child welfare and safeguarding children. Her work includes delivering training, presenting at conferences, and engaging in collaborative projects with schools around child abuse awareness and sexual violence prevention. She enjoys writing blogs and poetry on topics she feels passionate about. Judith loves running, gym classes and karate. She is married to an art lecturer and they live in Northamptonshire, England with their three free-spirited children, a 12- year-old son, and daughters aged 11 and 9.
a wonderful piece. . .thank you!