The Constellations

The Constellations

A Poem by Molly Garnet

I can’t see the stars anymore without seeing your face
You showed me all the constellations
I’ve forgotten them by now
But I remember it was you who showed me
They used to be magical
All sorts of shapes and figures dancing in the sky
But now they’re just clusters of dots
Millions and millions of dots that no longer have names

I ate so many frozen grapes with you
I can’t even stand to see them anymore
And I got so tired of feeding the deer in your backyard
Because we fed them every day
And I always wondered why they’d come so close
I got scared sometimes
But you loved those deer
And eventually I loved those deer too
We’d name them together
But forget who was who and name them again the very next day

You’d make us do ridiculous chores
Sometimes it was dangerous
But you trusted us to climb on the roof
And fix the radar
From ten years ago
You’d yell in that ridiculous Cajun accent
And we could barely take you seriously
Because you couldn’t stop laughing

I didn’t even know you were sick
It was months before anyone told me
And you never let it show
You still fed the deer
You still made frozen grapes
And you still named the constellations

I found out about the poison
The disease destroying your body
So many hospitals
So much pain

Eventually, you couldn’t feed the deer anymore
You couldn’t even get up
One visitor at a time, please
He needs his rest

Such a humble man
The world never knew his name
He liked it that way
The good man from north florida
Who was the same on Sunday morning
As he was every other day of the week

He’s holding the door for us
He told me so
And I believe it.
If any man is in heaven
It’s him
He always loved the constellations
And now he’s with them
His paradise in the stars.

© 2013 Molly Garnet


My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register




Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

259 Views
Added on January 10, 2013
Last Updated on January 10, 2013
Tags: death uncle love family constell

Author

Molly Garnet
Molly Garnet

FL



About
19. Awkward. Happy. Miserable. Dabbling in poetry. more..

Writing
Smoke Smoke

A Poem by Molly Garnet