Eating Grief

In memoriam for my son Jacob Myers: Oct. 3, 1985-May 6, 2009

The wind cups a few sparks of fear
carefully so as not to blow them out.

Sadness lifts its head like a horse in darkness.
My beloved son is dead and I walk backward,

lowering The End like a rock curtain,
tasting metal in the silence that attaches itself

YOU Can Support The Texas Observer Today

Become a Member

and start receiving the magazine

Stay Informed

Sign up for our weekly newsletter

Spread the Word

Give a friend a gift subscription

to the electrodes of memory. Flashbacks of Jake
scorch the surface while my feet can’t touch bottom.

Mind-howls spread and even themselves out
among the smithereens of wind and light.

I am blinded by the guilt that gold-rims my thoughts
like a set of bone china which I am given to eat grief from,

a kind of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation to bring him back
to life. I passed on to my son the opposite of every mistake

I ever made, crushing him between propriety and homilies.
Tonight dew drops jewel the leaves and the clouds air-brush

the moon as if beauty were brain-dead to the sky
curling like a burning photo. Each day is a fresh grave

dug into me. Everything I do is instilled with the care
of the frail and aged. As my spiritual beliefs slide away

from what is, every thing is becoming a holy remnant.
My son’s death is deathless and backlights the world.

Jack Myers was a former Texas Poet Laureate and the author of 17 books of and about poetry. He died late last year.

Get the latest Texas Observer news, analysis and investigations via FacebookTwitter and in our weekly newsletter.

You May Also Like:

Published at 6:01 pm CST
Top