November fourth won’t have the power
of the past. I’ll sleep through
the night, won’t wake up in
the fetal position head pounding
in the rhythm of despair and dread.
What will save me from this acid torch
in my gut every November fourth? What
will make the day just slip by without
grief or remembrance of a son that
brought me pure joy.
How long does loss hang on and haunt
those left behind? How long before
his precious face, that comes to me
in my dreams, bring me delight in
remembrance rather than the ache
and emptyness of his absence.
This year was the life is good
this is a perfect day ruse.The
air is cool, the sun is shining
and I planned an evening with
friends day.The I won’t think
won’t acknowledge any pain day.
This isn’t the year I hit on the right
combination, the right ploy to make
this just another day of cool weather
and blue skies.Maybe next year
will be the year I find my way.
Judy Roney
November 4, 2009
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5 comments:
Judy
Blessings and Peace to you and thank you for sharing your poem from the depths of your soul.
The Anniverary of the death of the only son of my dearest friend just past in October and I shared one of your poems. She was very greatful and touched and called me from far away to let me know how much it meant to her..thank you CA
Judy, I hope you did get through this day....somehow. And also I am still so very sorry about the death of your wonderful son. There is no way to make sense of this tragedy, this loss. I continue to mourn............
Oh Judy. November 4th. For some reason I thought it was the 5th, but that is probably the date I first heard about it. Your poem is heart wrenching. I'm glad you wrote it, and I feel deeply for you and your family.
I thought I had deleted this poem here and put it on my poetry blog, obviously not and I'll leave it in both places. The remarks give me energy and love and I can't take that away. :)
CA, I do remember your friend and feel so bad that she and her family are going through such torture. How nice that you shared one of my poems and it helped. That is a real blessing to think something good could come of my words.
Poerful poem Judy. I don't think these days ever lose thier punch, though some years they are easier than others. It's just the way it is I think. You catch the suffering of anniversary reactions powerfully. On my calender it's July 7.
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