Wild Court

An international poetry journal based in the English Department of King’s College London

‘Grief is like a miracle’: a poem by Helen Calcutt

 
 

    Grief is like a miracle

 

like opening your mouth for water, and finding rain.
You stand for days outside the body of a silent church.
Snow touches the stillness of the windows and
you long for their acceptance, a few tears.
You tell yourself the door isn’t closed:
it’s open and weeping. Like the orange rose
that never bloomed all Spring
then one day in Autumn         opened atriums of colour.
Now all the roses gather and the door
is open-armed. People think I’m strange
touching my lips to the wood, but
ice is thawing to love inside my body:
I don’t know how else to show my gratitude.

 
 


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