Wednesday, June 10, 2026

The Cost of Grief

The Price of Joy 


When you are gone 

there will still be—


A little dog 

yapping in the window

when I pull in the drive 


meals cooked on the stove 

laundry washed and folded 

floors swept of debris 

lawns mowed and trimmed

trash taken out to the curb 


The bed will still get made 

sheets will be changed 

pillows will be straightened 

messes will be cleaned 


What will be gone 

is the joy 

carried 

in every chore 


Half or more 

of the joy 

in each prepared meal  

will be lost 

to the inevitability of time 


There will still be 

a measured rendering 

of joy in family— 

but it will be diminished 

by a shadow 

no longer cast 


Days will come 

days will go 

in an endless procession—


Like soldiers 

marching 

to long-forgotten orders 


Sleep will not bring 

the same measure 

of peace and rest 


Sunny days 

and rainy ones 

will not bring 

the same comfort 


Waking 

will not carry 

the same anticipation 


Work will still be work 

but missing the usual sharing 


Days 

will continue 

beginning 

progressing 

and ending 


with less joy 


© Ron Simpson Jr.


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