He carried his grief like a pallbearer
up high on his shoulders
chin forward
determined
slightly hunched
almost as if as long as he didn’t straighten all the way out
his heart wouldn’t drop out of his chest
I don’t know what it cost him to keep it all inside like that
but then I was a not much more than a stranger passing by
how was I to know if at night he let it all unravel
only to come to morning
have to tuck it back inside
like wool
like stuffing
like the tight smile he was using as buffering
against the dozen a minute questions
asking if he was alright
