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On the Death of a Child
To lose a child is tragic, yet those winks
to tenderness, to bonding, still exist
as memories, creating lasting links
twixt parent and the prematurely missed.
The day of birth; the constant nightly bawl;
the downy smell of innocence; the cry
for mother’s milk; the tentative first crawl;
when potty-trained, the deep parental sigh.
Impressed upon your inner eye, more firsts
(like spoken words and toddling steps) remain
to soothe the heart, ensuring that it bursts
with highlights past, thus tempering the pain.
Recall your child’s achievements—like a test
A-plussed, or else a sunny sports day goal.
Recall each proud event that swelled your chest;
recall first loves, recall a cherished soul.
Don’t let a loss, untimely, overwhelm
the joy that came and blessed your earthly realm.
.
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Paul A. Freeman is the author of Rumours of Ophir, a crime novel which was taught in Zimbabwean high schools and has been translated into German. In addition to having two novels, a children’s book and an 18,000-word narrative poem (Robin Hood and Friar Tuck: Zombie Killers!) commercially published, Paul is the author of hundreds of published short stories, poems and articles.
knowing the pain of loss, this is a touching reminder to cherish each moment spent with all those whom we love.
Your comment is spot on, DB. Sometimes people leave us suddenly, and we should always keep this in mind.
My heart goes out to you, Paul, on your loss. I cannot imagine the depth of sorrow from the death of a child. At first I did not want to read the poem, fearing it was more than I could handle. It turned out to be surprisingly comforting.
Thanks for reading and commenting, Mary. I’m glad you found the poem comforting. That was my main aim.
I usually put a bit in each thread about a film. Surprisingly, on this topic, the film ‘First Man’, about Neil Armstrong, is perhaps the most moving I’ve seen. I challenge anyone not to tear up when he finally ‘let’s go’ and can move on.
How wise, Paul, is that last quatrain of multiple “recalls,” ending with the overarching “recall a cherished soul.”
Thanks for the comment, Margaret. Someone close to me lost a grown up child recently, which spurred me to finally put the much discussed experience down on paper.
Paul, I had a dear friend lose a 25-year-old son. It was very sudden, and I dared to write a classical “outreach” poem with the ghost of the son straining for his mother. Since it was published here on Mothers’ Day (not quite the time for such a scene), it got little attention. But since you’ve had such an experience and responded with a fine poem, you might like
https://classicalpoets.org/2022/05/08/euryalus-describes-his-mother-by-margaret-coats/
Thanks for the thought and the link, Margaret.
This is a beautiful and heartfelt poem of a tragic event that can never be forgotten or let go. I can only imagine the feelings of such a loss.
Thanks, Roy. A loss like this, even over time can hit you like a bolt out of the blue. A certain smell, a song, a food item, a film – the list is endless.
Thanks for reading and commenting.
With subject matter like this it’s an unavoidably painful poem, Paul, which you nevertheless infuse with beauty and the wise admonition to live and love while you can. I especially appreciate the extension of the sonnet form by an extra quatrain — as if there were simply too much to say in a standard sonnet; or as if you were doing your best to extend the life of the child. This is very moving work.
Thanks for reading and commenting, Brian. I did indeed have more to say than a standard-length sonnet would allow, and the extension allowed things to be said that I really needed to say.
This is such a beautiful and tender poem Paul. A heartbreaking subject to write about but your words give a caring cushion of comfort. Thank you for sharing this.
Thanks for reading and commenting, Isabella. It was a difficult poem to write, but sometimes those are the most meaningful and cathartic.