Grieving

They’ve dressed your Daddy in a fine new shirt,
and a tie he liked, and he’s lying there
in that silk-lined box while I ache with hurt
in a private way that I cannot share.

We’ll go back later to your uncle’s place
where we’ll sit and talk about Dad, and things
that he did at school, and I’ll keep my face
looking calm, serene - you can have my rings.

I might be crying for a little while
then I’ll look around for another man,
and I’ll find one soon - see my ‘c’mon’ smile?
Men are easy game if you’ve got a plan.

Have I hurt you now? Did you say you’re leaving?
Honey, don’t you know? There’s all sorts of grieving.