What I'm Doing Here

The grief of a loved one's passing becomes a foreign country.

I miss the snow, the way it fell

Soft and spread out to the sky

I miss the whisper of the wind

Constant as a lover’s sigh

I miss the winter as it came

Shades of pearl and silver gray

I miss the early morning sounds

As you rose to greet the day

 

I miss the stark and barren trees

The ice that froze in peaks and waves

As we drove across the bridge

The first time that I came to stay

I miss the cold that kissed my lips

Before they carried you away

I miss the way your eyes would shine

When you told me you were mine

 

Yeah. I’m home where I belong

Blue hills and life grows all around

Sweet voices call and I reply

Happy just to hear the sound

Sweet tea and country on my tongue

It’s so familiar and so clear

But my heart will not wake up

And tell me what I’m doing here

 

I know your love was like the snow

Piled high with words you did not mean

Empty promises and thoughts

Frozen like our window screen

Your comfort cost me all I had

I am as empty as the sky

You took it all to find your way

Now tell me where on earth am I

 

Yeah, I’m home where I belong

I smell the blossoms and the pine

I hear the train as it rolls by

It’s whistle cuts me like a knife

There’s my brother’s old guitar

And my daddy’s souvenirs

But my heart is far away

I don’t know what I’m doing here

 

-Zoe Richardson 

Author's Note

Sometimes you just need to let out the grief and find a new way home.

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

Felt the sadness and grief here. The wintry outlook works very well with its cold and bleak scenery. This reminded me of when I went home to stay with my parents after my first marriage broke up. I was home, but my heart was elsewhere. Beautifully conveyed.I am enjoying your work Zoe.

Chris

[Zoe Richardson]

You get stuck when you experience loss. It's hard to get your bearings. Fortunately, time heals!

[shadrach hah]

Hi Zoe, your words sing into the heart with their utter sadness. You paint such a sorrowful picture with your winter colours. One feels the emotions come from the deepest well as your lines sing out their sorrow. The sadness is real and there is beauty in this sadness. This is a wonderful, honest, real write, Zoe. You always make me feel. Have a wonderful Friday. Hugs always....Mike.

[Zoe Richardson]

This is actually a song. The contrast between winter and spring is also a contrast between where I lived, a place that never felt like home, and where I live now, which is always home. I'm glad you appreciate the sadness and deep emotion.

[shadrach hah]

Hi Zoe, and a wonderful, deep song it is. Your words ever sing into the heart. Have a wonderful Fridqay when it comes. Hugs always....Michael.

[Fabian G. Franklin]

The loss of friends and family always leaves us with a void inside; a space they used to fill, and crossing can seem like an eternity spent wandering through a desert of emptiness. I was the primary caregiver for my mother the last five years of her life. I quit my job and spent my retirement savings taking care of her so she would not be obliged for anything I could provide. I have seven siblings but I'm the youngest and none of them wanted to step up and mother did not want to go to a nursing home so I promised her she wouldn't. I kept my promise but it was the hardest job I've ever undertaken. It's one thing to fight in battles and believe there is some possible outcome for victory. It's quite another to stand the line knowing that you are the only soldier there and cannot possibly hope to overcome. But God has given me a great gift of mercy. He's never allowed me much time to grieve. When my father died, years before I had a newborn to care for so I poured myself into being the good dad he was for me. When mother passed my siblings took over the homestead and I was forced into the streets (family love eh?) So I had to start my life over without direction or money or employment or very much hope. I'd sold my car so I didn't even have transportation. I found a job and rode with a co-worker, rented an apartment, bought another car and began rebuilding my life from scratch. Now I have a life again, a wonderful wife and a beautiful little girl who treasures her daddy more than just about anything. So, I have two daughters...thirty years apart! But they love each other as sisters should even though the eldest has children near my daughter's age. My oldest calls regularly and we spoke just yesterday on the phone. She still asks my advice and loves me the same as my younger daughter. I joked to my son-in-law, the only way I could get sons was to raise fine daughters and marry them off to good men. (smile) Sorry for regaling you with my life story. But sometimes, we need to know we are not alone in our struggles and suffering and that there truly can be happier and better days ahead. I wish those happier days and times for you dear poet. God bless.

[Zoe Richardson]

I lost my husband to diabetes in early 2018. I was left homeless, penniless, seriously ill and about 700 miles from anyone who gave a tinker's cuss about me. Two months later, my brother died and a few weeks later, my dog. In all honesty, I miss the dog more than either of them. I care for my elderly mother now, although she is very self sufficient and needs little actual 'caring.' I am building my own life, much as you did. One of independence, without the myth of romance. My children and grandchildren are my joy. I talk to my oldest daughter every day. Grief is still a foreign land, but I am more out of it than in it now. And when I look up, I see a future and a hope. I love how our experiences as humans can bind us together. There is far too much tearing apart in today's society!

[Fabian G. Franklin]

Nothing truer than your final observation, there. We should be seeking common ground instead of heaving up earthworks for self defense.

[Zoe Richardson]

If we stopped hurling words like missals we wouldn't need earthworks. Forgiveness is lesson our society has forgotten as well as Live and Learn.

[Fabian G. Franklin]

I agree, and courtesy goes a long way as well. There's a good many characters out there but not very many that have character.

[Kerra]

This write has a soothing feel to it, yes it is always good, to let grief go,
at times though it is better left inside cause others just don't understand.
Awesome write

[Zoe Richardson]

Thank you! I am so glad you liked this. People may not understand grief, but holding it in is not really an option. It's best to find a way to release it, even if you release it privately. Whether people understand it or not doesn't make grief easier or harder to bear. It is what it is until you come to terms with it.

[John the Baptist]

Grief hangs heavily over this one. It is as though everything reminds the speaker of what has been lost. The blank verse meter lends itself well to revealing the speaker's sorrow. The author's note indicates, however, that this too shall pass.

[Zoe Richardson]

Grief envelopes, like drizzle and fog. Letting it out helps you see the sun does still shine. Thank you for your insight, and for your kindness!

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Wow, powerful....I miss my both my folks so much....and my best friend from the seventies and early eighties who died in a fire...she played guitar and sang so beautifully...she was a kind spirit.
j.

[Zoe Richardson]

You have my deepest sympathies. Loss makes us strangers to ourselves. But we find our way back. Keep the faith!

[no tell writer]

Grief is a horrible feeling, emotions are strong in this write. Nicely expressed

[Zoe Richardson]

Thank you! Grief is horrible, but it is also a process. It gets better, even if it is two steps forward and three steps back some days!

[lightsong]

this is very well written my friend, your strong and deep feelings are conveyed strongly, and since You brought up the snow and winter it will touch my heart more, your first two verses are magnificent and breathtaking for me. peace and warmth for You always~