The nights are not dark enough
I lay in bed but can't kiss your cheek
I can cope with day but not the night
A wise owl hoots outside in a tree
I'm trapped with grief will always be
We've buried you, I hated the sight
The wind now whistles a mournful tune
How strange that is for it's only June
I feel cold too, that's surely not right
Can I live without you all alone?
Your looks, your laugh, you hogging the phone
As you glance at me, eyes flashing bright
The kids are a help, know how I feel
They have asked me over for a meal
But I want you here with me all night
The opening line above is from Kerry's poem Self Portrait in Night
Image found at https://www.promises.com/addiction-blog/_
To have to miss the one who completes us is a terrible thing. Memories, plus the people and things we used to share with them, can offer a bit of comfort. But like the last stanza suggests, nothing truly feel the emptiness.
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DeleteThank you so much for the tweaking and relinking, Robin. 🖤❤️
DeleteI like the form of this poem. The tercets are tightly written, and the rhyme works well to convey the feeling of repetitious thoughts. A sad poem, but thank you for using my words as a starting point.
ReplyDeleteSo lovely.
ReplyDeleteYou captured the reality of emotion after staggering loss ... yes.
ReplyDeleteYes, I can feel this one, Robin. How hard it is to lay our loved ones in the cold ground.
ReplyDeleteThis is such a potent write, Robin!
ReplyDelete... this hits all to close to home. My father and father-in-law both recently passed away and watching both women work through it breaks my heart.
ReplyDeleteThe grief seeps through every line in this poem, Robin, and I like the way you’ve spring-boarded from Kerry’s line to paint a picture of the trap of grief, using night sounds to evoke a tragic atmosphere.
ReplyDeleteGreat sigh, I love this poem.
ReplyDeleteIt has to be so sad to live in such absence ... good to have people around you to fill a bit of the void.
ReplyDeleteTrying to sleep with loss is so painful... You have so eloquently written the pain of grief.
ReplyDeleteOh yes! Seven years widowed (already!) and life is mostly pleasant - but still I delay bedtimes as long as possible.
ReplyDeleteThe darkness of night seems to highlight loss. You wrote this in a perfect form, Robin. It is a sorrowful poem.
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