A Possibility in Grief

Julie Blumberg

When looking down from above it all

floating in motes of the finality

through windowless rooms

grieving

with the same disbelief

you had when hovering over her

in tightly sealed hospital rooms,

and now,

a glimpse of yourself riding your motorcycle

afterwardsalone

through an open window of time,

a blood-orange sun guiding you back,

home to the acropolis you built together,

think of the history driven by your love

trying to save her fallen city;

the crumbling of her breasts,

shards of illness scattered everywhere,

and even the strongest columns of her life,

children built by both your blood and bone,

are lifted above it all too

by the buoyancy of your heart.