First Mourning Poem by Roy Ballard

First Mourning

Rating: 4.0

Souvent dans la nuit
en entendant la pluie
je vous verrai ici.
Often in the night
listening to the rain
I shall see you here.
It is night. It rains
and I cannot recall the whole of this song
which I wrote on steamed glass
that first morning of your death
on a cold school window.

The coda is complete. The music ends.
The final chord is fingered, let it fall;
in quieter and stiller depths to sound,
to deep remoteness, down, to faint recall.
Ears strain to hold it. Have I got it still?
No! Time is silence and time has its will.

Thursday, February 25, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: death,grief,loss,time
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Margaret O Driscoll 25 February 2016

'Time is silence', a lovely tribute

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