A poem inspired by the month’s mind for our beloved Pepper. But also to honour friends recently departed and for those left behind to negotiate the empty spaces. I don’t see why a dog shouldn’t be extended that courtesy as sombrely as any human. A time to revisit grief and farewells in a quieter, calmer state.

The Minding Days

Step carefully, breathe slowly, hold yourself:

these are the minding days.

Call in the mist, the fog, the rain,

embrace the quiet cover of solitude.

The pulse of memory and mood

welds and weaves with the ocean of now,

the endless new, the impossible hollow.

While life readjusts, adapts and accommodates,

you have to house yourself anew;

relearn the space, the path, and the air.

Sink your hands into the earth –

the ground is still there, it holds you up.

It is not the time to be rash or reckless.

Hold grief like an infant;

let it know you are there and will keep it safe

until it can walk by itself.

These are the minding days,

let the rest fall away.