Four years ago, Ashley M. Jones made history as she became Alabama’s first Black and youngest poet laureate. That same year, however, she experienced a devastating personal loss—the sudden and unexpected passing of her beloved father.
Released in September 2025 by Hub City Press, Lullaby for the Grieving marks Jones’ fourth and most intimate poetry collection yet. Through this work, she delves into the many layers of mourning - both the deep personal sorrow of losing her father and the broader collective grief shaped by her experiences and surroundings.
We talked with Jones about the role that writing has played in her grief process and why she believes everyone should pick up the pen.
How has writing helped you navigate your grief for your father?
It's given me space and time to just think and allow myself to feel. I used to be someone who would hide my feelings. People talk about the strong friend. That's who I was, and the grieving process has stripped that away from me. Writing the poems really allowed me to see a new version of myself and to try to understand who I am now without my dad. I’m also getting to know him in a new way. When somebody dies, their body is gone, and so you're trying to figure out what to do with all the energy you have toward them. Writing has allowed me to visit my dad through memory and to keep him alive through the words that I'm writing. Even poems that I wrote before he died -- when I read those, I feel like I'm connecting with him in a new way.
As a poet, you are very intentional about the form of your work. You’ve said in other interviews that the book’s heroic crown of sonnets for your father represent the huge presence that he was in your life and the enormity of grief. The book also features several very brief poems that you call grief interludes. What are these meant to represent?
I didn't realize what they were at first, but I kept writing the same type of poem and they would come out of nowhere. I would sit down to do something else, but this grief thing popped up, and I needed to get it down. And I started to realize that these interludes -- that's what I decided to call them – were what was happening in my life. At first when my dad passed away, all of my moments were filled with thinking about him and there was no break. But eventually it came to a point where I could do regular stuff, but then something would take me back to a particular moment – like being at a QuikTrip and just seeing some guy get into his truck. The moment came and it went, like an interlude, but it was very intense while it was happening. Those poems replicate that feeling, that grief is something that punctuates our lives.
How do you define societal grief?
Looking out into the world and seeing someone call you names. I do feel pain when someone calls me names. I feel pain when I see TV clips of somebody demeaning others. I feel pain if somebody is questioning my ability. Sometimes it feels like I'm just fighting to be a human. Through this work, there are many layers of mourning - both the deep personal sorrow of losing a father and the broader collective grief shaped by experiences and surroundings.
Do you think that people who don’t consider themselves writers can still use writing to navigate grief?
I think people can use writing as a practice to get those thoughts out of their own head. That's, to me, part of the point of having a therapist. I got one after my dad died to just get stuff out of my body because it was just rotting inside of me. I don't think poetry is the only way. There are definitely some things I've just had to write down just to see it on the page and say, this is a fact. I'm going to read this fact over and over to combat whatever negative thoughts are in my mind. I think everyone should write.
I think people can use writing as a practice to get those thoughts out of their own head.