In February there was a lot of life, death and endings going on for people I love. This poem began on a Tuesday and by Thursday I added another element. A week later I just edited it, let it sit but wanted to publish it, here.
if grief be the final act of love
we are all there
broken
dissolved
death does not come easy
we live towards it
heartache
loss
sadness
making a more proficient process
yet what do we tell ourselves?
what do we tell our young?
what care do we really take
as we live towards it
my mind reels
but to what endeavour
a man is dead, a child is older
I move closer
Roisin Markham 
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