I am no longer all bones and angles. My sharp points have been sanded smooth, gently curved into a softer version of my former self.

… even this late, it comes — the knowing, the unbearable laid true for five years: you are gone.

You don’t notice the dying leaving
when they really choose to leave you.

Though we appear to die, we do not. Death is merely a change of address …

Jan Haag teaches journalism and creative writing at Sacramento City College where she is the chair of the journalism department and advises student publications. She is the author of Companion Spirit, a collection of poems about her husband’s death at the age of 48, published by Amherst Writers & Artists Press. She leads writing groups in Sacramento where the topic of grief and loss often arises.