tagNon-Erotic PoetryDecember Caoinim

December Caoinim

byishtat©

Listen, hear me daughter’s daughter’s child
my days grow dark are shortening
and flesh is wearied to the bone.
The long night calls me now
it is my time and my decembering
In lengthening days that grow
listen. Hear me daughter’s daughter’s child.
and sing our caoinim.





Note. Caonine from the Irish gaelic caoinim
has been adopted into English as ‘keening‘,
the wailing heard at the death of someone.
In its original form I am told it meant rather more
and was a lament sung in memory of the fate and
tribulations affecting an individual or family.
I meant to include it in the December
competition piece but forgot that it was
spelt with a c rather than a k and thus couldn‘t
check the spelling.

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