This Thief

There's no good way to receive bad news
And it is a feature of grief
That it catches you unawares
Cuts your soul, plunging deep

A phone call
One-handed, you answer
While marinating the meat

Raw chicken
Primal
Scream

A dear one has been stolen from you by this thief


...

This thief returns to the scene of the crime
No different in this, than other criminals
A repeat offender though, the gods gave up on reform
Threw their hands up at this incorrigible burglar
As if to get an idea for the next heist
There's always a target of opportunity
Even when the authorities are hot on the trail
Acting unconcerned, for the work is thrilling
Funeral minded, this thief, and comfortable hiding in plain sight
Secure in the knowledge there's no need for a mask on the face
Even while out on bail, the crime spree continues apace
Stripping bare all certainties, impressing the inevitability of death
This thief loots and pillages, crown jewels, a desecration
Faith and solace in the aftermath, grasping for soul insurance
Yet there's no salving the wounds, there's no consolation
Memories are the only thing the victims have left


For Uncle Ofosu

See previously The Laws of Grief


File under: grief, culture, observation, perception, social, memory, life, mourning, poetry, loss, Observers are worried, Social Living, Things Fall Apart, toli

Writing log: January 21, 2023