Death of a Child: A Parent’s Poetic Response

Inertia
Impetus?
Stimulus?
Got none
Gone, my son.
Reach deep
Can’t sleep
Wish I could
Know I should.
Easier said
Outta bed
Lookin’ high-low
Nothin’ to show.
Read? No.
Write? No.
Teach? Gotta.
Plan? Nodda.
Old desires
On the pyres.
All my files
Still in piles.
Grief?
Still chief.
The calendar?
A colander.
In a hole
No roll.
Wondering when
Tell you then.
Obligation
I do what I must
Touch of dust.
I reach, wanting return,
Into an empty cistern.
Dry well
Spiders swell.
Woven webs
Desire ebbs.
My core
Is no more.
Joy replaced
Tears on my face.
Work a drudge
Flow of sludge.
Obligation
My only motivation.
A smile will meet you
When I greet you.
It is a placeholder
For pain I shoulder.
For those who suffer
Give a buffer.
Grant space
And a little grace.
Set expectations aside
Stand by my side,
In silence
Quiet alliance.
Don’t ask, don’t tell
Your words, quell.
Let me be
But be with me.

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