GRIEF Poem: A TOMB OF ODES, by Basil McQuade

An ode to the birds,
who were up at 3 am
with this bullshit

An ode to making a cup
of tea this morning, a
warm and tender thought

I will sing to you
like I should have
sang at your funeral

The tears that did not
fall the first day or week
fell tenfold in the year to come

I am done with this pain, take it away now
I feel strangely calm
today, like I can do this

T h a n k y o u f o r a l w a y s t a k i n g c a r e o f m e

I will be there soon

Plan your escape today,
be as swift as the
winds that swept this life away

A toast to the roommates
I could have never chosen for myself but sorely
needed

An ode to car crashes,
may that be my last one

An ode to sleepless nights,
may you never have one
you didn’t need

An ode to 5:30 am, this is
the only season where it’s
daylight out now

An ode to my father, in
his blue-rimmed glasses
and his dress shirts

An ode to all the women
who came before me, artists
and storytellers, who
gave me these gifts
which I cultivate and
give to you

An ode to grey skies,
today you are sorely
needed

An ode to my mother,
who’s keen eye and steady
lateness meant we weren’t
athletic children
I had to find the
spark within me instead
Thank you

There could never be a
daughter who loved her
father more than I love
you
and equally,
There could never be a father
who loved his daughter more
than I love you