C.L.LLOYD

the poetry.

grief poetry

  • EVERY GREEN THING

    when you lay me in the black earth, do not grieve for me –do not weep for me – know in the still of your heartthat the pine roots stretch to meet me. that every green thing sings my name, while the rivers rise with heavy rain, and you will see me once again, as Read more

  • How Much Rage It Takes To Be This Soft

    Do you crave my wisdom like the salt sea air? Full of ancient riddles, knowing forgotten lands, thick with symbols of the first night on earth. Before the dawn broke and the battles waged, before the relief of light. When you thought fear only lingered in the dark. Before your heart jumped at the shadows Read more

  • BIRD BABY WITHOUT A MOTHER

    I am a learning-thing.  Unpetaling flowers in late spring. Breaking my beak open for a love that isn’t coming.  Drunk on the greedy need. Cawing nightlong into the blue-black hollow of absence. Sipping on the scarlet azaleas. Pulling twine from the floorboards of fusty rooms left to dust.  Moon-faced on wishing. Your magpie-eyes only gaze wantingly at bursts of Read more

  • WHERE THE GRIEF SINKS HEAVY.

    Meet me in the courtyard, as the clocks steel hand strikes the midnight hour, when the nights deep blue kisses the leaves of trees – and dew clings, like a creeping thing.  Find me in that familiar place, where shadows dance across landscapes, leaving tawny spots atop the hills, swaying between silver-tipped daffodils.  You know, the secret place – where the grief Read more