The Next Left Turn

Sometimes I'm rocked by sadness
But it passes
undefined, still creeping
around the edges
If it were a street
I'd turn and walk another

Times that find me then
move like so much smoke
and I need to grab a handful
Make it mine, name and hold it
Smoke is hard to grasp
Sometimes I am too

It's gone by morning
and I almost grieve the loss
The part of me that hurts
needing to be held a bit
wants the time to feel the pain
Reporting it as mine

Sadness needs that deference
and I am always unprepared
Eager for the thing to go away
and when it's gone I'm lost
To wander peaceful boulevards
until the next left turn at sadness