#Poetry Break: Grief Has a Sound

A Man from Cape May on New Years Day. Many years ago.

The wind
that New Year's Day
reckless and wild
found us 190 miles from home
huddled at the Cape May lookout
where we watched others
who had gathered too
to watch the sea.

Then nothing bad
was known
firsthand.
We dreamed of futures
and held them up
like bright bits of flame
that warmed our too-cold hands
on that first January night.

Years later I would know
that grief has a sound
more howl than holler,
like the sea wind set loose
reckless and wild
a lamentation
now known
by heart.