Did I, in those first days after you died,
put off going to bed? I don't recall!
Perhaps I went earlier, and then cried
half the night – or turned my face to the wall
long hours awake and silent? Did I call
in my mind to you? It's a blur today.
I do remember your going away –
the startling silence after your last breath….
I put it off now, four years since that day:
bedding always with the fact of your death.
(I wanted to try a Dizain: 10 lines of 10 syllables each, rhymed ababbccdcd.
As for the subject matter, that is always near to hand.)
As for the subject matter, that is always near to hand.)
Yes, the subject matter is always near at hand, my friend. The silence is so loud when the loved one is gone. I resonate with your poems about Andrew. He was a prince.
ReplyDeleteThis is excellent.
ReplyDeleteThis took me back. I didn't go to bed for years
ReplyDeleteRosemary, your helps me, to understand, what my mom went through, with the death of dad, in November 1998, as he had his fatal heart attack, while getting out of bed, for a medical appointment, in London, Ontario, about 3 hour drive, from my parent's home.
ReplyDelete