serving time (in the burbs II

➤ grief returns     like a fifth season in our lives.     slips quietly through the door in a pomegranate        of premonitions. in persimmons of disaffection. talking becomes too much effort. laughter ceases. you see it in the emptiness of things. even the bowls in the house remind you of it. I keep filling them with fruit for comfort. then the cherry blossoms bloom with it the birds keep growing louder with it the crows caw their warnings at me follow me around the yard                  as if it is I who has stopped listening.   ➤ one way and for lease we paint our façades in recognizable     acceptable colours. boarded and shuttered inside ourselves. I never knew     not loving you   was  an option. we are busy fighting the small crimes the big ones are beyond us now. the widows with the views are elsewhere. the mountains you imagined curious and peeking have looked away.     stay       at a safe distance. the sunbeams that readily spread themselves like rugs on our afternoon floors have been issued       restraining orders. the doors of your shock open wide.