Step by Step
The clock clicks.
The fridge keeps its low chant.
A glass on the counter
wearing yesterday’s mouthprint.
My mind starts building a case:
exhibits, footnotes,
a closing argument that never ends.
So I move.
Just to give grief something to do
besides eat me alive.
One step on the pavement,
then another.
My body picks up what my mind dropped –
how to continue.
Each footfall says, here.
Each breath says, again.
And I’m just continuing.
Grief doesn’t care that I’m walking.
It comes along,
heavy on my shoulders,
hooking a finger in my belt loop,
tugging at my heels.
But at least we’re moving.
It comes along,
heavy on my shoulders,
hooking a finger in my belt loop,
tugging at my heels.
But at least we’re moving.
Step by step
through the fog,
through the weight,
through the days that feel unlivable.
Somewhere between one step and the next,
the weight shifts a little,
just enough
for another step.
So I keep going,
step by step.
(2017, © Julia Delaney)
Be Alive 🌱
Love ❤️, Julia
Rhyme & Reason
![[section label="Regret, You Silent Sculptor"] [row style="small" v_align="equal" h_align="center"] [col span="7" span__sm="12" span__md="6" animate="blurIn"] Grooves Regret works in the dark. Chisel and mallet, carving valleys in my chest, grooves in my mind, hollows I didn't know were there until I fall into them. It shapes with "what if," with "if only," with the door I didn't walk through, the call that went to voicemail, the words that sat in my throat and stayed there. It keeps reworking my memories, pressing new grooves over old, until I can't tell anymore which version I lived and which one it made. The groove gets deeper. The chisel returns to the same line. I feel it wearing through and I hold still for it like I'm helping. But my hands are moving too. On different clay. Something regret hasn't touched yet. Two sculptors. Same room. One facing what was. One facing what's here. Neither puts down their tools. [gap height="10px"] [ux_text font_size="0.75" text_align="left"] (2018, © Julia Delaney) [/ux_text] [/col] [col span="5" span__sm="12" span__md="6"] [ux_image id="27223" image_hover="glow" depth="1" animate="blurIn"] [/col] [/row] [/section] The past is already carved. What matters is who's holding the chisel now... Be Alive 🌱 Love ❤️, Julia [section bg="24103" divider_top="waves-opacity" divider_top_flip="0" divider_top_to_front="0" divider="waves-opacity" divider_flip="0"] [ux_text text_align="center"] more from this hour: [/ux_text] [gap] [blog_posts style="default" type="row" col_spacing="xsmall" columns="3" columns__md="1" depth_hover="5" animate="blurIn" ids="27202,8949,27229" show_date="false" excerpt="false" comments="false" image_height="56.25%" image_hover="glow" image_hover_alt="zoom"] [/section] [block id= "poetry"] [block id="disclaimer"]](https://eadn-wc05-15915244.nxedge.io/wp-content/uploads/2026/01/poetry-about-life-711x400.jpg)
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