by Noel Mcgivern

Created on: May 24, 2008   Last Updated: June 17, 2008

This poem catalogues some of my bereavement. It finishes by addressing the death of my sister who was stabbed to death, at the age of 41, by a man she'd had a relationship with. My reference to her is childish because I still see her as my little sister. The poem reflects how a violent death is very different from other ones. It stresses how no earlier grief prepared me for this tragedy.

Biography of My Grief

To my Sister

When I first met death, I was very young;
A bus hit Laurence at only seven.
I did not know what grief had done;
I lived in hope that he'd find heaven.
-
My granny died when I was nine;
I missed the lemon drops she gave.
The big black car a warning sign;
Of the path that grief can pave.
-
I lay a boy of twelve years old;
A summer night too hot to sleep.
To my aunt my mother told;
"Five years is the most I'll keep."
-
At thirteen years I held her hand;
And heard her, as she spoke her last.
Grief, my only place to stand;
Yet still I did not know its blast.
-
By the sea where boats are yare;
Chris talked of girls and happy days.
At eighteen years he locked his car;
I learnt how teenage sorrow slays.
-
The next gave me a greater shock;
At half past ten he would go to bed.
I heard no footstep, checked the clock;
In armchair, sitting, he was dead.
-
That sorrow broke my very mind;
Yet greater sadness lay ahead.
For grief can tie a tighter bind;
And I had even worse to dread.
-
She'd tell me tales
Disturb my rest
My little sister was a pest.
-
The coldest day I ever knew;
Was when we laid her down to rest.
From my being, something flew;
For a knife had stabbed her chest.
-
For those who kill steal more than life;
In many hearts they plunge their knife.
I did not know what grief could do;
'Till Sis, I said goodbye to you.

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