Secret grammar

‘I just want my old life back,’ you said
one evening, already fluent
in the secret grammar of grief.

Out there, the sea wrinkles and slides;
a kererū wobbles in the cabbage tree;
clouds pile up; leaves catch fire in autumn light.

In here, the music and the books distract;
friends serve coffee and sympathy;
stray lines gather coincidence.

Meet somebody; complete some task;
fill the unforgiving minute etc
This warm hand reaches for yours.

‘I just want my old life back,’ you said
one evening, already fluent
in the secret grammar of grief.

Harry Ricketts

Harry Ricketts lives in Te Whanganui-a-Tara/Wellington. He has published around 30 books. His memoir First Things has just appeared from Te Herenga Waka Press, and a new collection of poems Bonfires on the Ice is due out from the same press next year.