grief

grief verberates for a long time

years

four years last november,

since

the peel, the knoll, the t r e m b l e of air; the very lungs of sound
unable to do more than gasp
a sharp note
inwards

a treble clef, a quaver, a s h u d d e r of remembrance

had begun

 
this sound no longer pierces

instead it merely pinches,
nips
yet seldom bites                  a chunk off me.

I scar and scab

the drums now only
wooden b /e /a /t /i /n /g /s on metal pans

the muted siren reeks of myth
the soberness of afterdeath has
spent its coins on suffering.

nonetheless, I still feel the faint

t r e m b l e

of sorrow in the torpid air.

Amy Louise Wyatt is a lecturer, poet and artist from Bangor, County Down. She is the editor of The Bangor Literary Journal. She has work published in a range of established journals and magazines, including The Blue Nib, FourXFour, Lagan Online and CAP Poetry in Motion anthology. Amy has read at festivals throughout Ireland. She was a finalist in the Funeral Services Northern Ireland National Poetry Competition 2016 and the Aspects Poetry Slam 2017, and was shortlisted for the Seamus Heaney Award for New Writing 2018.

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