Afraid of Grief
It’s late at night (I suddenly notice)
It’s late at night (I suddenly notice)
but how can I go to bed –
to be alone with my thoughts
of my friend who is dead?
Instead, I’ve been reading
other people’s poetry;
I’ve been answering emails
and playing on facebook.
Earlier, I watched that show
we both enjoyed – stopped short
a moment, as this night she wouldn’t
be watching with me (in our different homes).
I watched it anyway, and even laughed.
I raised a glass of red.
“Watching it for you, Nan,” I said.
But this time, I couldn't text her.
Then I went back to crying. Then
I started reading other people’s
poetry, and answering emails and.…
It’s late. I can’t go to bed.
RIP Nan Doyle, 26 August 1941 – 14 March 2018
:(
ReplyDeleteWell, maybe I can go. This little cat has just come up beside me and started purring at me. And she always joins me when I go to bed.
DeleteI so resonate with these lines, my friend. I just wrote a Poets United farewell to my friend Steve, The Unknown Gnome, who died last week. I am glad you raised a glass and watched your show for your friend. It is hard when our friends start leaving us. One feels one's mortality.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Sherry, and condolences to you in turn.
DeleteA moment captured, as if in Amber. It is shock. But the moment with its wine toast is precious as friendship.
ReplyDeleteYes, shock indeed. I had seen and spoken with her only five days previously. She said she had been quite unwell, but it wasn't evident, and the fact that she was up and about made it seem that she must be on the mend.
Delete