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Mourner's Block

by Maureen Glaude

The tears refuse
to release
and show themselves
denying me
their brief relief.

Where do they lurk
contained inside their restraint?
Locked within my lungs
which Qui Chong philosophy
believes the organs of grief?

Or frozen pooled
around my heart?

Why do they insist on their drought?

There is mystery enough
in the wait for death close by.

The unknown glooms its shadows
around me
dark-dusted by the known.

I walk in mourning
with my fellow mourners-in-
but lack their visible weeping.

Like his, my time's
not yet come.


Posted on 02/16/2005
Copyright © 2021 Maureen Glaude

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 02/17/05 at 02:07 AM

Text well reflective of its title Maureen. You have a remarkable talent for exposing every angle of a subject, happy and sad. Perhaps...eventually a chap book to accompany your own experiences with the terrible "C."

Posted by Paganini Jones on 02/20/05 at 10:44 PM

*nods* I don't know where they go but I do know they often return, sometimes for no apparent reason weeks or even months later. Hugs and prayers, Mo. And by the bye, this is the tightest piece of writing I have come across for a good while.

Posted by Michelle Angelini on 03/15/05 at 10:02 PM

Maureen, the title of this poem caught my eye, but the sentiment you expressed in it, caught me emotionally. What you've described is the end of one phase of mourning and the beginning of the next. Mourning, like death, is never simple or sometimes even understood.

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