Tag: motherless

• Grief & Poetry in Progress

  Seventeen weeks since my mother died. If my grief were a baby, it wouldn’t be eating solid food yet. If my grief were a grapevine, the fruit would only now be ripening. But my grief will not grow, or rot on the vine. If anything has changed, it’s my understanding of how to approach it:…

  mariegauthier

  July 20, 2011

  death, family

  drafts, grief, motherless, Mum, poetry, revision