Grief

The morning started heavy.
Words unspoken gave him a false hope.

His breath arrested dry as
I heard it sharp and saw the sky
Leave his eyes.

The way we trekked to the kitchen
Mimicked a march down a cellar.

I placed him, like clay, at our grey wood table.
He cupped the coffee I gave, like an elixir,
The body slightly folding with a sip.

The caffeine chased the numbness in his blood.

Eric Wyatt

Eric Wyatt

Eric Wyatt was born and raised completely in California where he currently resides. He holds a B.S. in biology from California State Polytechnic University, Pomona and is currently pursuing his RN lic