Grief

Grief is like the ocean.

It comes in salty waves.

Smacks you down.

Drags you under.

Sucks.

As he lay dying

I kept wondering what poems he was writing in his head.

February 2, 2008, 8:40 p.m.

Rain was lashing the windows. Joni Mitchell songs were playing on the computer.

And my little brother took his last breath.