Black Earth

Grief is the black dirt
that buries a treasure.

It is the stacking
of stones,

mossy-growth,

the fossils,
the bones,
piled by weight,
piled by measure,
into that seemingly
bottomless hole

…where something sits
that used to be
wholly mine.

Time is rain,
time is clean,
and the passage of years
runs as cool rivulets
over our brows,
and down our cheeks,

and through the soles
of our feet,

it sinks
into the black earth
to loosen the stones.

Then,
a glint,
a glimmer,
the good memories

…those left behind

by the passage of grief,
by the cleansing
of time-

those memories hope
to rise.

Gold does not not tarnish,
but if kept in the dark,
if trapped out of time,

gold is forgotten,

and black earth does not shine.

©️ Obol, 2020.