Crutching

I saw you walking –

the two of you –

arm in arm,

hand in hand,

leaning against each other

in the rain,

no umbrellas or raincoats,

just two jersey hoodies,

certain to protect your heads

until they themselves are saturated,

which won’t take long –

not in this downpour.

I know why you walked that way –

why you crutched one another –

and why you didn’t care one whit

whether you were wet

or whether you were dry.

Yours’ was a mourner’s pace –

the outward manifestation

of internal pain –

the body’s way of saying,

“This is too much to bear – alone.”

I know that heartache all too well.

That is why,

when I saw you walking –

the two of you –

arm in arm,

hand in hand,

leaning against each other

in the rain,

I shed two tears:

one for the sorrow –

the sadness of loss,

and one for the grace

of each other’s shelter

when it’s raining –

outside and in.

(Originally published in “The Local Voice”, http://www.thelocalvoice.net, May 2018)