Lingering Aftermath

A song on the radio, it struck like a knife,

a note from the past, a reminder of life.

March was a blur, a shroud over tears,

where we gathered to mourn, to surrender our fears.

Now weeks have unfolded, and grief comes again,

like a wave crashing down, an uninvited friend.

I sift through the memories, heavy and cold,

months after the goodbye, and the story retold.

An empty chair at the table, a heart turned to stone,

I navigate currents that pull me alone.

In the quiet of evening, the echoes arise,

grief showing up late, with no soft goodbyes.