A Keening Wind
A wretched wakefulness stalks my brow
And sleep is put to flight.
No guardian angel or healing balm
Will soothe my lids tonight.
Outside my window a keening wind
His solemn requiem cries
Mid gulps of penitential tears
And agonizing sighs.
What cruel impulse brings you here
To prate your tale of woe.
Did you too taste the chilling loss
Of one you cherished so?
idris rees hughes.