On Outliving One’s Child

He pads down dark corridors
peering into empty rooms

Loss curls around him
rubbing his stubble

He swallows it whole
and feels it settle
in his belly

Picking at a frayed seam
he wonders how he can be both
so full
and so empty


This is for Bjorn at dVerse Poets Pub where we have been asked to write a poem of forty-four words including the word, “curl”, also know as a quadrille.

35 thoughts on “On Outliving One’s Child

  1. Oh this is so raw. The person you explain with your words…walks through the title of this poem and there is such an aching here. To lose one’s child is an unnatural thing in the cycle of being. I lost my brother when he was just 51 and my mother and father truly had a hole, an empty space, left within their selves. I think the stubble and the walking here…so achingly forlorn.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Oh this is so sad and heartrending, Mary. Losing a child is always so tragic. I so like the way you have used the prompt word:

    ‘Loss curls around him
    rubbing his stubble’

    And those final lines reverberate.


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