Living

Time moves forward, new shapes form,
trends emerge, patterns falter and
new dawn strikes the past,
dully, gently, blunting memory
and hurt.
Gut wrenching moments lessen,
as habit and ritual
forces past, the mind
softly layering like feather down and
tender kisses mourn, then flirt.
Delicate movement
and love murmurs forth,
devastating head pictures
start to become forced,
and ebbing grief
gives way to living's burst,
as morning thoughts
of losses, stop becoming the first.