My dear father passed away on March 8, 2009. Here is a poem I've written in the past 20 minutes relating to that aspect of my life.
For so long
the words didn’t come
nestled as they were
beneath my breastbone
close to my heart.
Refusing to make an appearance --
in fear
of saying too much
of revealing the gaping wounds
as tangled up as they were
with a death.
With my father’s death.
A year ago.
A mere threehundredandsixtyfive days ago.
In a hospital bed.
With a breathing mask
to allow the chest to rise and fall
rise
and fall
throughout that night
…and into the morning.
We changed the clocks.
Spring ahead / Fall back.
I watched the big hand and little hand
circle ‘round the numbers
again and again
continuously
throughout that night
and into the morning.
5:55.
The last breath was taken.
It was gentle, it was peaceful.
It was over.
A life was over.
Death had begun.
