They speak of a well of grief.
To me, there’s no well,
just a lump, a clod, a weight
where my heart should be.
I don’t even know why.
It’s not an anniversary,
I’m not missing a certain someone.
Just this weight, I can’t shift.
This clod, clogging up
my thinking, my feeling.
Maybe it’s the weather –
the grey dampness
soaking into my bones.
Maybe it’s the dark days
of this dark month..
Maybe it’s the heaviness
of being human,
in this so sad world.
Surely, I don’t know.
So I sit in ignorance
with this weight in my chest,
where my heart should be.
(written at 5.15pm)
A Quiet Passion 
Dear Claire, this resonates so much with me. I feel I’m going down, I can’t write or create anything, I just posted few words about it.
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A true marriage of words and image! Great writing, I too felt moved and resonated deeply. The long, dark months and other shadowy things came to mind. Warm and wild blessings, Deborah.
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