I have just read about the death of a young soldier who had just returned to theatre after being at home for four weeks with his wife and brand new baby.
This is a rondel, but written without stanza breaks, and as always, not in iambs.
Today’s Soldier’s Widow
A newly widowed mother and her newborn son
stunned into silence, ghosted by dismay –
her family ripped asunder in the cruellest way.
No time to live, to love, to laugh – become
whole. Now she can only pray to outrun
the pain- escape, retreat, withdraw, hide away,
this newly widowed mother and her newborn son –
stunned into silence, ghosted by dismay.
She is angered by the whispers, completely undone
by the touch of the wrong hand, the play
of the wrong voice, the empty words. The grey
rocks of grief tumble, promise to defeat her – this numb,
newly widowed mother, with her newborn son.