Poems by Alison Jennings for her Husband, DJ: A Refusal to Mourn with Big Words, Old Clothes, A Furious Waterfall (After Theodore Roethke), Tightrope of Loss, Chronology of Grief (Time’s Stickiness)

2025-02-15

I lost my partner/soulmate/best friend and also had to assume the role of his caregiver/health advocate. Writing poetry about this situation has helped me cope. I hope that these poems can help others with their grief journey.

In honor of my husband, DJ, who has dementia, and though physically still here, is no longer the person I spent 50 years with.

A Refusal to Mourn with Big Words

Don’t mourn with big words.
It’s best to use short ones—
hurt, pain, sob,
ache, grief, loss—
Small words help
to hold your sorrow,
keep it in your grip;
don’t reach for heights
of rage,
or make futile flaps
of wings, with your
heart tied down
with weights of woe.
If you sink too deep
into a flood of tears—
you may drown.


Old Clothes

I put on my life
like an old suit
of clothes
that barely fits now:
sleeves too long
for my reach,
shrunken by
visceral losses.
The hems all sag,
unable to hang on;
I can’t loosen
the chokehold
of circumstance.
Pockets and linings
rip, spilling
acidic contents
of rooted,
undiluted sorrow.
It will take a while
to fashion myself
a different suit;
my stitching skills
stink; the tailor’s
is closed down
for mourning.
Meanwhile,
I must make do,
like a beggar,
with just the clothes
upon my back.


A Furious Waterfall (After Theodore Roethke)

A lively
understandable spirit
once entertained you,
a recent widow, now
falling from the spousal
fortress, at first graceful,
gliding atop a smooth river;
then you collapse
like a lung, gasping for air,
as a furious waterfall