The Deeper Sorrow

Perhaps they lingered a little too long
on their losses, the young man thought…
What cool rippling common sense
he brought to bear on what they’d undergone,
what remarks verging on indifference,
what intelligence displayed on the hill!
Into his forties, fifties, and sixties life
compelled him into the valley’s chill:
what reached his sinews, blood and bone,
what he sorrowed over, all his losses,
were the world – for they were his alone.
He couldn’t have lingered too long…
And beyond those losses – a deeper sorrow –
was the seduction of a Siren’s song –
of his own making, enforcing the dream
that his losses were special and his alone.

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