Alpine Grief

I wade into grief slowly
as if it were an alpine lake
each step with breathless gasping
its frigid bite meeting warm skin.
So I wait
until each body part
grows numb
the thousand poking needles
blunted
as if a thin paper
suddenly shields my skin.
Finally, I am immersed
and I carefully tilt back my head
to press my nose
into the air
as the water covers my face.
I wait
feeling the throbbing cold
complete its path
through my skin, muscles, nerves, and bones
until it hits my core
until I am fully conscious
of my submersion.
And then, only then
do I slowly turn around
layer by layer
my body emerges
dripping, sodden
trembling
until I stand on dry ground
once more.
But even then
the memory of the dark waters
remains in the faint, shimmering droplets
perched on my skin
sending goose-bumped shivers
across my body.