Seasons of Grief | Teen Ink

Seasons of Grief

January 11, 2022
By Apollinaria BRONZE, Manchester, New Hampshire
Apollinaria BRONZE, Manchester, New Hampshire
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

The 

first fall

Of gentle snow

Its empty sheets 

With withered skies

Welcome me 

In deceptious grin

Seclude my mind 

With all that’s known

Of why you had to leave so early

Of why I can not grief my loss

Despite it all occurring sudden

I cannot now just yet move on

I don’t understand

The complexities of irritant nature

That covet me in numbed emotions

In lost tales of what is evident

And yet I still cannot quite get

What your foreign tongue might say

Or what new change I may fulfill


The basal autumn leafs

Which hum my frustration 

Always multiply and grow

Like the constant forceful wind

Crawling through immortal branches

Cutting petals that grew so long

Destroying everything in sight

Yet even while this occurs

The wind is short lived, strong, and plain

Hurting every kindred flame

Lit so dearly from the storm

Desperate to protect 

From the evident fall. 


Secluded rest depresses me 

Fateless moments hurt me deep

For every summer is unspent

For every hurt cannot be reasoned

With every time I look outside

The garish, horrid yellow region

My mouth turns tasteless to the view

Eyes so bored at lurid faces

Knowing that they’ll never get me

Knowing that they’re all decaying-

Just like you are six feet under

Bliss is severed by your dirt

All deadly mucid with rotted rapture

As I grow numbed to said emotion

Which evoked so much when first began

Isolated mornings seem to mock me

Unwanted nights bring empty dreams

And all this time I spend rejected

For dizzied torment is repeated

Every day the same neglect

I spend barren from your presence


The final dew of lucid spring

Revealed itself in moderate progression

Tender aching of my heart

No longer suppressed from the boundaries of irrationality

The conformity of bloom 

Free from any ardent agony

Set me under a vicious embrace

Of all the suffering I have courteously endured

Flora and fauna rooted in inherited mourning

As I begin my dawning steps

Towards the glowing buds with enveloped skies

The last breath of warming air whispering: 

Inhale


The author's comments:

My work has previously been published in my school’s newspapers and magazines, as well as Boys and Girls Club’s 603 Creative Writing in NH. I am an editor for my school’s newspaper, as well as on the board for a poetry club. I also serve as a poetry reader in a teen run magazine, Under the Madness, which allows me to work with the state’s poet laureate. Currently, I am 16 years old, and a junior in high school.

This poem, as stated in the title, is my own reflection of loss and stages of grief- being formatted in the different seasons which I've felt them the most. Despite the seasons not being in order, it only further empthasizes how my view of grief escalates into several years and takes time.


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