MOURNERS The widow returns to the house And accepts the quiet room, The polished furniture. Her hands rest in her lap. She will soon find something to do With her hands again. She says His name aloud in the room. ---- The one whose shoulder aches >From the weight of his sister's coffin Has turned his back to the wind To light a cigarette. Flame hollows his skull; Wind rips the smoke from his hands. ---- The man whose wife is lying Between the four tall candles Waits for the women to leave, Then climbs the stairs again To quench the candles, one By one. Then he sits all night In the dark room beside her bed. ---- For the grieving are as numerous as the blades Of the long reeds that bend in every wind, Surviving, though their hollow roots hold sand. As sorrow leaves us, so wind dies in the reeds. -- James J. McAuley, b. 1936 Dublin "Mourners" from "Requiem," in memory of his mother, Maureen McAuley, d. July 1969.