Version 2


As death came to unfold my hand,
you chose to stay and hold my hand,
so that this quietus, meant
to give the steam of life a vent
and calm the mighty wave of life,
was borne with a much lesser strife.

If we are meant to salvage nought
from all the riches life has brought.
(Not one single wild carousal
nor vestige of passion’s arousal.)
If death gives heed to no demand
and no relief from its remand,

then, at least, it seems most fit
that, before our life is quit,
we should have the comfort of
a single gentle press of love.
All, perhaps, that we can stand—
the forgiveness of a loved one’s hand.

Prompts today are hold my hand, carouse, quietus, salvage and wave.


9 thoughts on “Quietus


    Oh Dee, such a beautiful poem and though it brings back memories of sadness, at the same time there is gladness. This is one I would like to frame. Even the title is well thought out.

    Thanks for your deep thoughts on a subject that is so close to many of us. Melancholy memories of time past.



      I was made sad, and I need to add that this poem was posted at the same time when the news was on the New Jersey family, where seven had come down with the virus and four had died, including a mother and son. The sad part was that the living could not be with the dying due to the possibility of cross infection as well. How sad that this final closeness was forbidden. Holding the hand of a person dying is something badly needed for both parties involved.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.