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.