Mourning Colours

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Why stop the clocks?
When time itself stands dead.
Far better halt the fallow lie
of sunlight. Cull all green.
Staunch the bright pulsing flow of red.

Why baffle the dog
with a juicy bone to stay his bark?
Muzzle instead the boundless sky
whose blues can not compass
this loss that hungers for the dark.

Why muffle the drum? 
Mute you now the too bright brass,
that holds him from me and sears my grief
in burnished oak.
Unpall my boy, lay him on the grass.

Why favour doves' 
white necks with the privacy of crepe?
Hang my heart with shades of black relief.
Wreath my eyes, blind their din
Noose black bows round my frigid nape.

Why give comfort
to another's hand? Grant my grasp
black cotton gloves to hide from sight,
my unrequited fists
forever wanting his returning clasp.

Why allot love
to span of time, love knows no lack                   
no stop, no start, no fix, no fault, no blight
Love finds no rest, no end.
Unshroud him now. I want him back.

Author’s Notes
1. ‘Mourning Colours’ is inspired by W.H. Auden’s ‘Funeral Blues.’ A recording of the poem appears on the Leith Walk Rhymer’s youtube channel.


Copyright © 2015 Lindsay Oliver

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