The Grieving
Sara Wallace

Our torsos are translucent,
each like a china bowl held to light;

our ribs are the shadows of fingers
visible through the glass,

the heart a red stew inside.
We get old, growing gentler with understanding,

gentler and more helpless.
We don’t want to eat,

but we are polite guests on earth
and bend to the dark broth in the spoon.