GRIEF Poem: Before/After Fall, by Connor James

Before
The early October evening
when cool air stirs whispers
from the tops of the still green trees.
Flowers hold on to bloom
vibrantly refusing retirement.

I drink in the cool starry skies
my core still warm
from furnaced summer air,
and I deny what is to come.

After
The weeping red oak in my front lawn
sheds tears of orange that become
mottled brown and mixed with ashen dirt.

My dog’s weathered paws no longer
pad the beaten trail to the lake
and the wind hisses with an icy sting.

We buried her in the backyard
with promises to plant a lilac in the spring.

The nights are long.
The cold has set into my bones.