There is another grief —
an add-on grief
to what has come before.
Like a snake sloughing
off its skin
and coming back just as fresh.
I don’t say yes to life.
I have always found life
more complex than that.
I don’t refuse it either.
I make tea.
I write things down.
I notice the tree outside the window
doing what trees do
without asking permission.
A squirrel runs its branches,
quick as lightning.
I read a message about my grandchildren.
I smile.
This life is a series of happenings.
Some choice, yes. Some random events.
Some fate perhaps?
Yet here’s the thing
Whatever the occurrence,
I can choose my response to it.
Hour by hour,
minute by minute.
I can choose.