When one is searching
for the right thing to say,
the elusive condolence can
become as slick and slippery
as a greased pig at a county fair,
squirming and wriggling
at the back of the throat,
impossible to grasp and cling to,
the resulting sound resembling a
squeak or a squeal, not even close
to the comforting words of wisdom
one is searching for, lost and writhing,
deep within the careworn crevices
of the besieged and beleaguered brain.
Cristine A. Gruber writes from sunny, Southern California. Her work has been featured in numerous magazines, including: North American Review, Writer’s Digest, California Quarterly, Dead Snakes, The Endicott Review, The Homestead Review, Iodine Poetry Journal, Leaves of Ink, Miller’s Pond, Napalm and Novocain, The Penwood Review, The Poet’s Haven, Pound of Flash, Pyrokinection, Red River Review, The Tule Review, Wilderness House Literary Review, and The Write Place at the Write Time. Her first full-length collection of poetry, Lifeline, is available from http://buybooksontheweb.
com. More of Cristine's work can be found and enjoyed at http://sierraviewjournal. blogspot.com/.