Grief is a sneaky, nefarious knave. Insinuating himself as nostalgia then assaulting full-force as one’s protective garb rattles to the ground.
Evicted after a vicious, exhausting battle, he retreated into the morning’s sunlight.
Must fortify protections, plan well, and deter future attacks. Unspoken mourning alerts him to vulnerability. Words shared and actions taken mitigate the risks. Unconscious tears call for him; awareness repels his attack.
Mourning for what was and wasn’t on another Hallmark holiday. Aching, but aware and moving. No longer battered by Grief, for now.
Creekside Whispers 