Time Heals All Wounds?
©2021 Susan Noyes Anderson
Time heals all wounds, so they say,
but do these words hold true?
If yes, such healing plays me false, son,
when it comes to you.
Poems about Death
Not one of us will pass through life without being touched by death and grieving. Initially, I had only a handful of poems about death and losing loved ones and did not feel a specific category on that topic was necessary for this website. Sadly, after losing my youngest son in 2018, that has changed. This new topic includes 40 poems about death and grieving, written as part of my own grieving process. I hope this category will make it easier for other bereaved parents to find and use them as part of their own healing. My poems about death are here for non-commercial purposes only. Please include full copyright information on every copy, emailing a request for permission before using. For internet use, a link back to this site is required. May peace and comfort be yours on this difficult path.
FINDING THE POEM YOU WANT: As you scroll through this section, simply read each snippet sample (usually the first four lines) to get a feel for the poem. When you find something you like, click “CONTINUE READING” to view the entire poem.
Turning the Pages
©2021 Susan Noyes Anderson
I like to think
he’s with us still,
a photo on the window sill,
a memory of days gone by,
a shadow in his sister’s eye.
Grandma Said
©2021 Susan Noyes Anderson
Soon or late, life teaches lessons
few would choose to learn.
Ours is, at best, a rocky path
with many a twist and turn.
Christmas List
©2021 Susan Noyes Anderson
You are not on my Christmas list.
A sadder truth was never told.
Your dear name vanished in the mist
with nary a gift to wrap in gold
and no vestige of you to hold.
Watermark
©2021 Susan Noyes Anderson
Oh what an odyssey it was.
That day, that road. It shredded me.
Climbing tight curves so desperately.
Round edges, lined by rock and tree.
Steep plunges, dropping to the sea.
No Small Thing
©2021 Susan Noyes Anderson
The spruce tree missing from your grave
brought me to ground.
Another loss I could not save,
a low blow some thief blithely gave,
the superficial turned profound.
One Tender Mercy
©2021 Susan Noyes Anderson
I wrote a poem of you
and your blue eyes,
then took a walk
to read it at your grave.
Arriving there, I found
to my surprise,
no trace of tree
or pot, love-gifts we gave.
On Signs and Mysteries
©2021 Susan Noyes Anderson
This morning, rather suddenly,
the cemetery called to me.
I did not yield; my day was full,
yet every hour I felt the pull.
My washer hummed; my keyboard clicked;
the oven baked; the timer ticked,
but underneath their steady thrum,
I heard your soft song, “Come, come, come…”