unshed

Countless others
Have likened the rain to tears, or tears to rain.
The comparison should have lost its potency through reiteration
Yet, sitting watching drops trickle steadily down the window,
I can think of nothing but how they would feel on my cheek –
Cold rather than hot and salty,
Expressing my sorrow when my body cannot.

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7 thoughts on “unshed

  1. It is raining in Cape Town too. My tears are less, but only sometimes so. I find my grief mostly wells up when initiated, in some unexpected way, by the feelings and reactions of others . Less often am I overwhelmed by my own pain. I wonder sometimes for whom I am crying – for myself, for Tessa, for you, for all the children who will not know their grandmother ? I cry for the friends who cry … I cry for all of us, except perhaps for those who will not acknowledge.

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