Grief is the wind
a fifteen year old heart
as light as thought
when passersby mistook
flesh for summer peach
mind—abstract
before the rosy pinch
she took into a wedding
no one could explain;
grief is in the valley
grief rides the waves
grief is the wind
though her heart—
no longer so light.
The Waking Den 
Soulful. You write so well. 🙂
Why thank you! You’re too kind. If you quite enjoyed this one, you might also consider “They called us children once,” “Our Corner,” or even “What”. Thanks for visiting – I hope you stick around.
I’d better check your recommendations. 😀 You simply write so good it will be hard not to read them. 🙂
i am tickled by your metaphors,’
cheers.
Much obliged, thank you!