The Keening

a poem from my novel, Crossings

A few fleeting seconds

A kiss a caress

A moment of love

Skins turned liquid

Passions inflamed

A convulsive instant

 

Then I wept bitter tears

At the passing of our union

After this moldy death

Fluids were replaced embalmed

             So memories would remain          

Motionless for silent decades

 

The only remnant alive

A defenseless child

Who never asked to be born

It’s only query

Why?