If I Could Cry
In a poem titled The Quarrel by Stanley Kunitz, he writes: “If I could cry, I’d cry, but I am too old to be anybody’s child.” As I reread many of the poems of this Poet Laureate, I found some poems that resonated.
I have been feeling down lately. Sad because of the violence and hatred that seems to appear everywhere. Sometimes I want to cry but I can’t. What good would it do anyway? So in honor of Stanley Kunitz I have written the following poem using a line from his poem The Quarrel.
She is just three and a half
but knows me so well
she could sense there was something wrong
with her beloved abuela*
who she calls “guela”*.
I did not want to tell her
what was in my heart
“If I could cry, I’d cry, but I am too old to be anybody’s child.”
I thought about how lucky she is
to have all her grandparents.
What a blessing.
“If I could cry, I’d cry, but I am too old to be anybody’s child.”
and I am too old to be beguiled
and sweet memories have been filed
away in a cloud somewhere.
“If I could cry, I’d cry, but I am too old to be anybody’s child.”
What good would it do anyway?
Who listens to the cry of an orphan?
“If I could cry, I’d cry, but I am too old to be anybody’s child.”
There is just too much to cry about.
There is no doubt.
Or is there?
“If I could cry, I’d cry, but I am too old to be anybody’s child.”
- grandmother
- grandchild’s way of saying abuela
