Tenebrae is the ancient Latin word for darkness—the gradual extinguishment of light, one candle flame at a time.

In this memoir told in poems, Dan Flanigan follows that gradual dimming through the last illness and death of his wife. Written in free verse and prose poems, Tenebrae moves across the full arc of a long marriage. These poems refuse the familiar consolations. There is no posturing, no preciousness, no self-pity. A dying woman is rendered as fully human—strong, flawed, dignified, unmistakably herself—and the speaker does not cast himself as hero.

Other poems in the book reflect this same grappling with the fundamental issues of our lives—loss, hope, despair and acceptance, reflecting a compassionate embrace of the human condition.

If you think you don’t like poetry, Tenebrae may change your mind.

These are truly poems for the people—plain but exquisitely crafted and expressed in a language that is both elegant and easy to understand… They reach from the heart to the heart.