Grief. Like swimming across an ocean.
Grief. Like measuring every tree in a vast forest.
Nothing lasts forever, friend.
Even a mountain will wear down, with enough time.
Even a star eventually explodes.
But this grief I carry?
It seems so huge, so powerful,
And I have carried it far.
Oh son, how fine it was
When we used to hike the Yuba River trails.
Now I am alone, and so small.
There is nothing that I feel the need to prove, and no one to prove it to anyway. There is just the next thing that happens. I can live with that.