THOUGHT I'D LOST YOU.

A FATHER TALKS TO HIS DEAD SON.

Thought I’d lost you,
stoic son,
found you again,
in bits and pieces,
in your books,
your black wallet,
your tee-shirts,
words said,
memory held.

In sleep I see you,
want to hear you
speak again,
that laughter, chuckle,
all gone in death's
hold and keep,
wish for this and all that,
you and you,
in dream and for real,
your cheek or arm
or hand to hold.

Looking through photos
of you young and later
before death came and took,
I let a finger etch along
your photographic cheek or brow,
thinking I could reach through
and touch you somehow.

I thought I’d lost you
my stoic son,
but guess you are there
beyond my here and now,
beyond my human touch
bringing on that grief and pain,
but I will find you later,
not here and now,
but after death's lie,
will meet again.

Reviews

[DaVoid]

I feel your pain as I read through this.
The sense of hope and connection makes it strong.
As you are. Hold on.

[Terry Collett]

Thank you, DaVoid

[Frank]

Your poetry is beautiful. I'm crying a little. I hope you see your son again too.

[Terry Collett]

Thank you, Frankeethecat