Talking To My Father Whose Ashes Sit In A Closet And Listen

Death is not the final word.
Without ears, my father still listens,
still shrugs his shoulders
whenever I ask a question he doesn't want to answer.

I stand at the closet door, my hand on the knob,
my hip leaning against the frame and ask him
what does he think about the war in Iraq
and how does he feel about his oldest daughter

my sister whom he loved so much,
getting married to a man she met on the Internet.

Without eyes, my father still looks around.
He sees what I am trying to do, sees that I
have grown less passive with his passing,
understands my need for answers only he can provide.

I imagine him drawing a breath, sensing
his lungs once again filling with air, his thoughts ballooning.

Reviews

[Kelly Scheppers]

This brought a tear to my eye, and overflowed my heart. Your words spoke to me in volumes that were most profound, and made me thankful to have read you today!

Truly beautiful work, Anne! Bless you for preserving such a loving memory of your father this way. You should be proud, very proud of this!

[Emrick]

I like the idea. It is unique and interesting.
I can imagine how dear your dad was to you.

[Celestial Witch Child]

Perfection. A very insightful, descriptive look into how another person copes with the passing of a loved one. Very well written.

[Mary C]

I really enjoyed this. Flowed nicely throughout

[Blake Fodor]

You have created a powerful image through the words on the page!

[Susan Beth Horvath]

Your words are very moving and captivating.Full of emotion

[Mary Bosworth]

I really like your style. this poem is so beautifully expressed! the ending was just perfect. Great job!

[John Anderson]

This is such an amazing poem. Your descriptions and attention to detail are truly amazing. I was totally engrossed in this from beginning to end.

[Frieda P]

Sad, a touching tribute to your father, bittersweet and very affecting.

[Wandering Minstrel]

This is exceptional!! Sumptuous language and imagery