grief Archives - Spillwords

Starry Night

Jim BatesMay 26, 2020

Starry Night written by: Jim Bates I was five when my parents were killed in a car crash. My closest relative was Mom's older sister, Aunt Sally, wh...

EnglishLiterature3 min read

My Lucky Penny

Tess M ShepherdMay 20, 2020

My Lucky Penny written by: Tess M Shepherd As soon as we step from my car I see it glitter, copper-bright, amongst the kerbside rubbish. “A bit of go...

EnglishLiterature2 min read

Emergence 4:20am

Heather C BauerMay 14, 2020

Emergence 4:20am written by: Heather C. Bauer She hovered between worlds; a soft voice called to her: - “Ma’am” Not quite ready to acknowledge...

EnglishLiterature2 min read

Stagnant Time

Reza RazaMay 11, 2020

Stagnant Time written by: Reza Raza Stagnant Time When the Earth is blind- Stealthily the Sirius smiles a bit The massive wagon is full of grief S...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Epilogue

Doug Stanfield (Hemmingplay)May 2, 2020

Saying Goodbye Part XX Epilogue: It Was the Sound I Could Not Forget written by: Doug Stanfield (Hemmingplay) @hemmingplay This final poem in th...

Doug StanfieldEnglishFeatured PostPoetrySaying Goodbye4 min read

Forgetting

Richard RebelApril 28, 2020

Forgetting written by: Richard Rebel At the corner Nicholas got off the 452, ducking over the road and behind the bus as it slugged away with a low ...

EnglishLiterature4 min read

BLISSFUL BLOOM

Sujata DashApril 27, 2020

BLISSFUL BLOOM written by: Sujata Dash Somewhere... In the outskirts of fun and frolic In the midst of alluring night life I find mounds of grief ...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

A Daughter’s Grief

Donnie SharrellApril 20, 2020

A Daughter's Grief written by: Donnie Sharrell I push at the body but it doesn't move. The still nearly icy body doesn't move, nor speak, breathe or...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

Ignis Fatuus

Priya Dolma TamangApril 20, 2020

Ignis Fatuus written by: Priya Dolma Tamang @kulvadana The air could not be as bounteously gravid with the sky climaxing into dawn, soggy with reve...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

A Morning

Doug Stanfield (Hemmingplay)April 10, 2020

Saying Goodbye Part XIX A Morning written by: Doug Stanfield (Hemmingplay) @hemmingplay I do remember certain things, nine months later, how it...

Doug StanfieldEnglishPoetrySaying Goodbye1 min read

Pestilence Shards

Michael BallMarch 31, 2020

Pestilence Shards written by: Michael Ball @whirred I. Irony Have we time and heart space for irony (even for the athletic) while the plague s...

EnglishFeatured PostPoetry2 min read

Agate Hunting

Jim BatesMarch 26, 2020

Agate Hunting written by: Jim Bates After we waved good-bye to the last of the guests, Janet turned to me and asked, "Where's Evan?" "I think he's ...

EnglishFeatured PostLiterature6 min read

Giving Back, Reluctantly

Doug Stanfield (Hemmingplay)March 20, 2020

Saying Goodbye Part XVIII Giving Back, Reluctantly written by: Doug Stanfield (Hemmingplay) @hemmingplay 50 years we had together. Then she suff...

Doug StanfieldEnglishPoetrySaying Goodbye4 min read

I Haven’t Said Goodbye

Magdalena PodobińskaMarch 9, 2020

I Haven't Said Goodbye written by: Magdalena Podobińska I’m moved he found the time to come and give me a hug yesterday I saw him before I wen...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Gerardine White (mostly called Ger) grew up in wild open country of West Limerick, Ireland. Her country life is represented in her poems and has a strong bearing on her core values and education. She inherited the skill of poetic rhyme from both of her parents and her Grandad – who were all fine poets and storytellers. Her education took place mostly in South West Ireland and the rest of it is gleaned from travel, from life, and from being an avid reader of all kinds of books. In recent years she has returned to poetry writing. This past year seeing her published in four Anthologies from Clarendon House Publications. She sees herself as a Spiritual person, very connected with life in all forms. She is happily married for past 20 years and currently lives in Sussex, UK. She enjoys healthy pursuits of country walks with a nice cuppa tea and chat at the end.

Resurrection by Suzanne Craig-Whytock

On the day that Budgie died, I was young and very sad. He was a pretty bird, always singing in his cage. Sometimes we let him out to fly around, and on that day, the curtains were wide open and he slammed into the glass hard. Momma put him into a shoe box and I cried as we buried him in the back garden among the lilies. The next morning, very early, I snuck out of the house and dug him up with a garden trowel because I wanted to see him one more time. When I took the lid off the shoe box, his eyes were open and his wings fluttered ...