I saw her just the other day, But, not knowing what to say, I turned away. For she has lost her only son, off fighting in the war. A bootless war that lingers on Like a chancre sore. There are others like her; Gold stars in windows shine- For brave boys brought home in boxes for “no one’s left behind. “ There’s no word that refers to her Who has lost her only child. A remnant who lingers here the last one of her line. I’ve seen her tend his graveside like she once made his childhood bed. She keeps the flowers watered, trims the grass above his head. In her Living room, a folded flag A grateful nation’s gift To remind her of one she loved so Whose death left her bereft.
Our language has no specific word to refer to a parent who has lost a child.