The Hue Of Grief Poem by Christine Gries

The Hue of Grief
Red, sharp, searing
my being
it's hot, bitter, salty taste,
palatable

I stare at my phone
awaiting that message
of hello
but none comes
colors just blur

The hue of grief
Clouds my judgment
of present
and the past
passes away, dying

Grief comes and stays with me
like the friend I would talk to
but really did not like
I would talk to her, just to be polite
Grief comes and makes itself comfortable
Familiar with my minute by minute activities

Your memory can stay
Grief can fade
I know
the hue of Grief
will stay