Today, I feel bereft, by lover scorned
A father’s ache as wayward child withdraws
I breathed my breath in you, my pulse, my thought
Do I deserve your snarling teeth and claws?

The pain of losing one too close is yet
Unknown to me but here I gain a taste
The labour throes expectantly endured
But cuckoo-like competing twins supplace

Adrift I grapple to regain control
An aimless ship that’s lost its sense of place
The pride anticipated at your birth
Usurped as hollowness and anger rage

Give me some space to rant and weep then pass
A paper bag to help me once more breathe
I know tomorrow I will find a way
But until then I simply need to grieve

Yesterday I received the written report on my viva for my DMin which took place just before Christmas. I already knew the outcome, after seven years of work the examiners sent me away to substantially rewrite it, which came as a complete shock to me, but receiving the formal letter and report once more unmoored me.
(13.01.22)

© Ben Quant 2022