Lamentation
By Gene Aronowitz
The news of death has filled my life with grief.
I prize the precious times that I recall
But grieve the absence of those times that I
Had hoped I might have had. Bereavement can
Subside as each new loving dream I have
Restores a future, briefly lost to me.
Yet anguished cries implode when death preempts
The reconciliation needed from
A lifted voice or hand. At that, there is
Remorse. My father died. My uncle sobbed
Because they had not talked for forty years.
My father’s death killed my uncle’s dream.
I hope I’ll not recall the dead
Lamenting what I could have said.
