Grief is a quiet thing.
Deadly in repose.
A raging horror, a thunder of abuse.

Raucous-
Demanding-
Incomprehensible-
Tearing all that one has ever loved.

Hopeless,
Forlorn,
Fear-ridden and misunderstood;
Ceasing a moment, and through the years
Returning... to destroy.

To rage,
To curse all that is happy-
or contented,
or trusting.

To threaten every beauty that is true.

Grief?
It's a quiet thing.

Melba Colgrove