I’m Still Here

The yearly calendar continues its dance. Just passed July 4th wedding anniversary and just ahead, in August, Dan’s birthday (tho not till the 28th).
A footpath for grief?
Or milestones on the journey?
Who can say for sure what any of it means?
Poetry says it best.
I held my morning in a cup.
The quiet steeped slowly, turning familiar things dark.
Grief didn’t spill — it soaked in.
Silent.
Stronger with time.
Laughter echoed in the same room
where I once broke.
It didn’t cancel the ache —
it lit it.
Beauty arrived uninvited, and stayed.
I no longer look for who I was.
I wait for who is arriving.
She walks with quieter footsteps,
but she knows
how to hold what hurts without spilling.
I don’t know where this path leads.
I only know
I still take the next step,
even when the fog swallows
everything beyond my feet.
