Looks like I go through all five stages of grief in a day
And then wake up
And go through all five stages all over again
Denial
Anger
Bargaining
Depression
Acceptance
They don’t even rhyme
They don’t even include humor or wisdom from past grief
They just march in and march out
As if on the appointed round
Postmen without mercy or guile to vary the route
Without leaving the comfort of letters to read to a wilting heart