Sorrow is so easy to slip into,
Just checking colours
In the cupboard
Leads us to despair.
What are we to do with crepe-de-chine,
With cotton,
With strident silk mourning bands
The colour of emptiness?

Caught, as they are,
In the fit of a well sewn sleeve
Where needles have pierced
The quiet cloth,
Where silent cries of agony
Have tidied themselves
Into one long breath of servitude
To continued pain.

As sorrow pierces the tiny joy
That is all we have been able to put by,
All we have been able to save
Out of all the years and years
Of longing,
We bow our heads
To the garment of despair.

What are we to do?
What can be done
To ease implacable grief?
Tears and tears and broken tears.

Love is the colour
That saves us.
Love is the cloth
That sends us well clad
To attend the death of grief.

©2022Gwen Grant

9 thoughts on “COLOUR AND CLOTH

  1. That’s just how I felt when I was writing this poem! Thank you for your comment. It is much appreciated.


  2. How kind you are. I’m so glad you enjoyed it. I’ve only just got the chance to sit down
    properly and look at things but I do appreciate what you have said. A poem always strives
    for the truth but the poet is always unsure that they’ve actually hit the truth – this poet is,
    anyway! Thanks again.

    Liked by 1 person

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