The morning after
it all, I wonder
when, where, how
it will emerge.
When will
the aftershocks
of his death cease?
Where did
the bagpiper go,
where should
those empty shells
from the gun salute go?
How will
I know
this is
the new normal?
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Night & Day Poems of Amy Nash 
I like the choice of bagpipe (loud) and empty shells (silent).
I have not experienced that kind of loss so I am not sure. But I believe there is no ‘normal’ – life is just what life is and it is us who have to settle down like black coffee dust in a cup. The cup is always stable it is us who needs to come to rest in it. (ok, maybe this black coffee analogy is a bit strange).
There is always a calm after the storm and there are always words after the writing block.
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Thanks Dhyan. I am trying to just let myself feel what I feel and write what I can to record what I see. Grieving is a complex process. Who knows what normal is? It really is an illusion, isn’t it?
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