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Death of a Father Thin rain, like broken spider webs, hangs loose from the sky, trailing on the grass Soft whispers in the hall, a gust of wind, a curtain twists then falls---all else is still The room is hollow, empty, odorless She steps in, and sees him lying there Black suite and white shirt--her eyes blink Her heart snaps the picture Two strides and she can touch him The hands that once built a swing now folded, white and stiff Holding in his soul Her fingers trace his cheek-- how cold! His lips never moving, now always smiling She kisses his forehead the way she always did before running off to bed She heaves beneath her heavy sobs He always caressed her tears away Now, he could not |
Additional Notes:
When my father died suddenly, I had a difficult time accepting his death.
The need to be alone with him at the funeral home was very much part of my
mourning process. I hope I have conveyed that. Don't be put off by the
personal grief I felt, I still want REAL feedback on this one!
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