Coming to Grief

We came to grief
as though it was
all that could be.
The dirt track twisted
and turned, but did
not fork.
There were no
crossroads,
no other towns to visit.
Only the one destination.

We came to grief,
it was waiting for us,
nowhere else to go.
We plodded down the hill,
entered the town and let
the gate shut behind us.

My hair is let down,
ashes are rubbed
on my face. I
turn to the wall
and endure.