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.

To my son Arlie, (1972 – May 25, 2017)

.

Now I understand

the keening wail,

the rocking forwards,

backwards

so different

from the lullaby

the cradling

from long ago.

It’s forward, release,

forward

release

the pain

as it bursts through

a damn

in the solar plexus.

.

The medics came

from experience

guessing it was a heart attack.

He had keened

his own losses

too many times.

We rock and release,

rock

and release

the keening wail,

the keening wheel

that won’t stop turning

around and around

and around.

.

(c) 2017  Betty Hayes Albright

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