its emptiness

a hole in the floor of our sureness

I cannot fathom it--

a loss can be so real

that the depth of the absence

cannot be touched,

and we pull back the weighted line

and try to tack somewhere else,

the chasm feels like a whirlpool

that wants to share its emptiness,

to pull us in,

I imagine a black hole in space

that is real in this universe

but is so much more real somewhere else,

wherever it goes,

pictures, memories, stories can pull us

back and away for awhile,

we can throw ourselves into doing

and appreciate the dance 

we can pull together and perform,

we can pretend for awhile that there isn’t 

a hole in the floor of our sureness

into which a loved one has fallen

and into which we will fall--

the only question is when.

by Henry H. Walker

January 10, ’14
image courtesy of Google Images