I shall wear it as a veil
until the veil becomes a shawl:
it will keep me warm
when the wind blows.
I shall wear it as a shawl
until it becomes a skirt:
it will spread as I dance
when the wind blows.
I shall wear it as a skirt
until the skirt becomes a memory
placed in a drawer of sighs for
when the wind blows.
I shall recall it as a veil
as a shawl, as a skirt
and shall close the drawer again
when the wind blows.
How well grief fits, adapts
so unlosable, a comfort:
and finds its place to wear
when the wind blows.
2013 © Andie Davidson