A Grief of Others

by Cally Conan-Davies

His wife would like to stitch a scarlet letter in your skin,
his other woman ploughs the field you grow your rushes in,

a weary seal ignores your fish and snarls at your approach,
a friend lays down his weight of silk beneath a fallen arch,

the fire goes out, the full moon wanes, and all the vastness blurs
as you grieve for what begins in silver waves and ends in words.