Is this how we go?

A nurse shares a video of a son singing

over the phone to his virus inflicted mother

and the video is shared so often that

the whole world mourns his loss.

We grieve differently these days

as unbearable sorrows are made public

and RIPs rent the portal in instant dedications

of six photos that comprise a lifetime.

Grief comes in waves, we’re told

and we see it’s true as the arcs of someone else’s pain

throb through their stories and tweets,

drawing us in or numbing us completely as death comes too close, too often.

Someone writes, “grief is love that has nowhere to go”

and we all understand or pretend to when

we comment in hearts and tears and sorrysforyourloss

and the dead live forever

frozen in profiles where they cooked, baked, swam,

drank, danced and feltcutemightdeletelater

in a graveyard that gathers proof of life

in a simulation where we haven’t truly lived at all.