Friday, August 26, 2011

The Grief of Death




Grief suffuses every pore, every cell.
The eye is pierced,

Exuding a bath of tears so complete—
It bathes the stricken in icy heat.
The heart pulses and contracts
To protect the soul of the supplicant
who appeals at grief’s door,
To scab over wound or to mire
The soul in remembrance--
To better enfold the beloved.
Attend you to the primacy of its passion.
Its heat so ready to pierce anew
The unshriven heart.
Each prick
A bittersweet reminder
That you
Are still
Alive.


Copyright/All rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2011

3 comments:

  1. Very poignant and thought provoking poem!

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  2. This comment has been removed by the author.

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  3. Poignant and painful... the icy heat, the pulsing of the heart, the scabbing, the pricks that serve as bittersweet reminders... Crafted with feeling and skill...

    I spotted a spelling mistake and couldn't see how to edit it - so what I removed was my comment with the typo!)

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