Grief Poems

9/27/1994
Sister

Sister
A word I will never hear again
Sister
A name
My name
My loss
Sister died with brother.
Brother lives in sister.
Only brother.
Only sister.
Only surviving child.

10/11/1994
I Feel My Brother

I catch little glimpses of my brother in Rob's hands.
How his fingers taper or move.
How his breath is caught or sighed.
How he chuckles.
I see my brother in Rob's hands.
I hear him in his laughter.
I feel my brother in my face.
Across my brow.
On my lips.
Behind my eyes.
Heavy on my lids.
I feel him in my frown.

I feel my brother in my walk.
I find my brother in places I never looked before.
In my work.
In the thrill of a new idea.

I do not need to search for him.
I feel him everywhere.


12/17/ 1994
The Bill

I meet my brother again
He is on the page in front of me.
CT HEAD $162.75
CHEST TWO VIEWS $35.50
UPPER GI $112.25
CHEST CT $226.75
CT ABDOMEN $267.00

His body now with prices attached.
Tests to find answers to the unasked question.
Denial sits on my dining room table.
The tab $804.25

I stare at his body on the page. Chest and abdomen the priciest.
Each line of the bill reminding me of those days in the waiting rooms.

Luskey, Robert L
DOB 1/31/41
Sex M
Acct # 104855

Balances due.
I write
"Deceased. No assets."

2/15/1995
Un Bel Di
One Fine Day

This town is for lease.
The emptiness is vast here.
It echoes in corner storefronts.
Masked in vacation beauty, brilliant sky and rocky coast
it mocks me.
I recognize what lies behind the vacant shops;
There is a heavy sadness in the cool sea breeze;
I feel the dullness of an overcast heart as I walk the brightly colored streets.
"Where are the shuffling men," I wonder as I pass the Jolly Rodger restaurant.
The limp arms, jutting heads, ashen faces well hidden from publich view;
Living in the underbelly of Laguna Beach were the sun doesn't shine.
Through the windows, I see a festival of death invisible to the naked eye,
I see my reflection in the glass;
I hear waves beat the rhythm of lost art.
I miss my brother.