Like a fox hides in a hole or den

I have been acquainted  well with  grief
I have wept  at home and wept abroad.
I have lost my loved ones to this thief.

I have  known grief  spread like rivers wide
I ‘ve been  hurt  by   painful ,wracked  tears
I have felt the absence of  my God.

I’ve known grief for  more than sixty years
My father and his brother were the first
I have met no  being who’s been spared.

Yet we have no permission  here to weep
I long for ritual like  a   writer needs a pen
I long  to dream of them  while I’m asleep.

Like a fox hides in a hole or den
I would like to hide  when days begin
Uncontained  by  his love  again
As a tree mourns for each little leaf
As God mourns for Adam’s   holy sin
I have been acquainted   with  harsh grief
I have  seen each ghost  and I believe.