SOME DAYS 2016

A FATHER TALKS TO HIS DEAD SON

Some days
my son
the darkness encroaches,
and surrounds me
like black wolves
snarling.

Some days
a slither of light appears,
but is soon
swallowed up
by the mouth
of depression.

Since your death,
the days seem long
and slow unwinding
or short and quick
and snappy and gone.

Some days
all seems well,
but soon the ache comes
and the slow realization
that you are gone
and death has won.

Some days
I just want to sleep
and keep your memory
just in my head
as I lay in my bed.