Woman With Dead Child by Käthe Kollwitz
I have played the grieving husband
But do not know the pain,
For in my grief an ego lives
One that must be slain.
How easy is the public grief,
The softened eyes and grimaced smile,
The private grief torments me more
With no witness in the trial.
I perfected my performance
And praised was I in that;
But the play had not yet started
‘Til all alone I sat.
I’m told to cling to memories
But this already I have learnt:
She was no imagined idol
A made-up dream that can be burnt.
No, real was she and unplanned,
Her quirks are what I miss.
What beauty it was to watch her
Surprise me with a kiss.
I will play the grieving husband
For my public need me to grieve,
But how do I learn to live without
When all the people leave?
Written on Thursday 2nd August 2018 having started to read C.S. Lewis’ ‘A Grief Observed’.