A year passed before I came face to face with the grief over the death of my father. There wasn’t time for me to grieve; I was the executor of his estate, and his estate was a mess. A huge mess. He’d kept my mother unaware of just what a mess it was, and she was as bewildered as the rest of the family. When we finally emerged from the financial fog, grief hit me like a freight train.
“There is no grief like the grief that does not speak,” Henry Wadsworth Longfellow once wrote. The man knew what he was talking about.
Poet and writer Sarah Carey knows about grief. Her new poetry collection, The Grief Committee Minutes, isn’t solely about grief, but much of it is. What I particularly like is how Carey identifies and explores the kinds of grief.
To continue reading, please see my post today at Tweetspeak Poetry.
Some Tuesday Readings
T.S. Eliot Put His World Back Together Again – Douglas Murray at The Free Press.
New Release! The Colour Out of Space Graphic Novel, Illustrated by Sara Barkat – Tweetspeak Poetry.
The Cure – poem by Gabrielle Myers at Every Day Poems.
How I Turned My Family History into a Novel – Joanne Howard at Writer’s Digest.
“Mr. Flood’s Party,” poem by Edward Arlington Robinson – Sally Thomas at Poems Ancient and Modern.
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