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.


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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