Love Left Behind
June 19, 2009
When my father died,
I was not with him.
I did not know he would die
two hundred miles away
alone with strangers
shocking his big chest
his body jumping…
momentarily
only to land
in a dead heap.
I should have been there
to capture him in my arms.
How I wish to have him back -
even for a minute.
(We can give a lifetime in a minute.)
2006
June 20, 2009 at 4:45 am
That is a beautiful Father’s Day poem. Perfectly controlled tone, so delicate and yet still strong and dignified I think.
June 21, 2009 at 12:45 am
Thank you Paul. I always treasure your compliments. My father actually died on June 19,1981 at the age of sixty one. It was my brother David’s 16th birthday. It was a profound experience which taught me that there is existence beyond this place and time.