Grief

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Becky, More Bounce for the Ounce

Becky, More Bounce for the Ounce,
wrote
‘I shaved my legs today.’
You shrug
but I know
it was a defining moment.
I know about defining moments.
Milestones.
Looking back, that was it,
that was the moment when…
When you shaved your legs?
Yeah, laugh if you like.
But.
For Becky…
You mean Becky More Bounce for the Ounce, Becky?
Yeah, that one.
This was no act of beautification
or narcissism.
This was affirmation
returning.
A signpost
signalling
a vision.
Spirit tentatively turning out
in preparation.

‘Grief is unpredictable and best given into.’
They said.
‘Don’t fight it.
Go with it now or, when it comes,
as it most definitely will,
it will come crashing.
Devastatingly arduous.’

Becky,
My friend Becky…
Yeah, More Bounce for the Ounce Becky,
was wise
she embraced it
vomited out the ugliness
vomited it all over us
her friends
we who love her
because we love her.

Listen
learn
from Becky, before it’s too late,
from a friend of a friend,
while you can.
I didn’t.
I ignored grief
it did not ignore me.
Grief insidious
curled sensuously around my being
tender tendrils of creeper
creeping
entwining
firming to an
impenetrable woodiness.
Grafting grief to being
being to grief
engulfing.
Bearing winter blooms
putrescent flowers
vitriolic pollen
venomous fruit.
And I,
who thought I was wise,
found myself seduced by a sharper blade.

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