| The Wake (Poem)....
Posted: 10/7/2008 5:54:08 AM | (I've written over 300 poems, and this is but one). This is about grieving what one never had (after 31 years of abusive marriage.)
The Wake
I sit alone at the wake
It comes and goes....the ache
I wear black on the inside
It never appears as if I've ever cried
There are no other mourners at the gathering
No eulogies...or songs to sing
The casket (contains) and is closed...to symbolize
Needs unmet
There are no flowers
The death of hope...of saddest hours
This is a wake--of soitude
A mourner's fugue
No pictures to surround the dead
No one remembering---this is what she said
There are picture frames devoid of photos....which should be there
Of a life...where nothing...was ever shared
The lights are low...the funeral director quietly asks: "Are you ready to go?"
To take the journey...the burden..to lie it down...upon the hardened ground
All without
One sound
The silent dark procession of the soul...the journey...to be whole
From grief--relief----I must say goodbye...I know
Sign the guestbook...take one last look
The funeral was over many years ago...the tears, the anguish is something
You too well..do know
The silent vigil you still keep....while wandering...in your sleep
I must sit a little longer...and when I am ready
I will go
There is no one to stqnd with you at the gave
There was nothing that could be saved
Isn't it ironic...that they call it.....
a wake (awake) | |
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