paper work

I buried my grief 

In the back yard 

Next to the fig tree 

But someone kept digging it up

I didn’t know who 

But in the strangest times

It would surface 

Again 

And again

Until I realised 

The shovel was in my hand 

The human side of me 

Craving the loss 

I’d tried to hide 

So in the evenings

the light soft and amber

I tended to my grief

Dug my fingers into the ground 

Planted seeds 

For flowers to grow

This way I could see it 

Looking back at me 

Smiling softly at our humanness 

At our loss 

But most of all 

Our love.