Foraged Feelings: Seven Years, Seven Months, Eight Days

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Sometimes, something isn't for long-form writing. Moments and memories. The unspoken stories. Fragments of emotion put poetry in motion. Closure or healing, through Foraged Feelings...

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Seven Years, Seven Months, Eight Days

Before I know it, the stroke of midnight,

And just like that, a day has passed. 

Without resistance, without a fight,

No early warning, no questions asked.

Silent and cold, these lightless hours,

The dead of night to those alive.

Life brings the light, but death devours;

Where once was six, now only five.

A day of passing, the time of leaving;

Now yesterday, like an unsolved mystery.

That fleeting farewell has turned to grieving;

Those flowing tears became history.

For seven years, seven months, eight days,

It was a span of play and laughter.

But goodbye waited in many ways;

No matter how, it's what came after.

So many plans that haven't come true,

Our outdoor plays that were never to be.

The sulking gaze that was so you—

Beyond the rainbow, leaving us empty. 

Today in silence, I reminisce,

Wondering in guilt or pure regret

For all the chances I was remiss,

Too sad to list in one vignette.

Even so, I know, beyond these tears

You're eternally free, no hurt, no pain.

So thank you, my dear, for the joyful years,

Until the day we meet again...

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In loving memory of our Little Miss Sulky

🎄 2018.12.25 - 2026.08.02 🌈