I walk my dog, Woody, on a freezing day
He pulls on the lead, he needs to be free, away
Soon, he's outrunning Ned the whippet,
I glance along the forest edge
Up at the skeletal trees
Even the pines decline to leaf for me.
I count my losses - deaths natural
And suicidal. How can I reconcile
Myself to such losses? I do not know.
My beautiful children extend their hands
To me but they are busy with kids & work.
I try not to let my terrible hurt show
Except in verse for, I know well- enough that
Every one can master a grief, but he that has it.