The Weight Of Loss (Poetry)

It hugs my back — clamped like a shell
bears down relentless
becoming heavier with the years
it slows the days to an awkward stubborn crawl
and there seems no way
I can offload it.

My sorrow’s grown to fit me —
a cruel carapace of lead
and I identify with Atlas
the whole world burdening his shoulders with
a cargo he would give the world to shed.

How can absence equal anything so heavy?
How can what is missing weigh so much
sheer emptiness is crushing?
That hollow ache’s a mass so dense
I’m sinking low beneath its shadow-freight.

It is the last race of the season
and I’m handicapped by longing
dragging deep and pulling wide
I plod towards the finish
hauling ghosts I carry with me
for the ride.