THIS AGEING GRIEF
i Some people are great At telling you how To grieve Or not Not this long anyway Only the Swan Of the damaged wing And attentive eye Would ever allow this Length of time These years But she allows it This ageing grief That will not Let go completely For that would mean Forgetting And forgetting is not Allowed ii It is easier now Less harrowing Not even dramatic But its approach Brings a sudden Change of mood Tears prickling The edge of my eye Pent up breath Shuddering in my breast Memory of that day The preceding days Last deeds done Final words spoken Not knowing They were last or final Memory of that day When word of death broke in So suddenly to rob us Summoning us from Our varied normalities Drawing us in To its abnormal achievement No consolation Ever will avail This side of heaven And if there is a certain peace It is the deep silence Of God at Golgatha