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Dad Died
Dad Died
You said, “this conversation is over, and you with it.”
but it’s not. I continue to talk, to probe the possibilities
dialoguing at times bridging the gaps
attimesnot
You declared, “I’ll live life on my terms, no one else’s”
but you didn’t. Life had other plans and whispered loud
over your protestations, to carry the day, with no contradiction
save one
You argued with death, and death bowed, briefly
you made your point it came granting you a
certain dignity, unachieved, but granted posthumously
I saw
the man I wished you were, and hope to be
my presence as you died taken
your death a gift to me
and now I wear
your ring
What will I say?
Who will listen?
Will anyone be there with me?
As I was with you.
© Bart Breen 2005
An infinity of experience
An infinity of experience capsulized in a few words.
Some of us believe that we choose our parents before we are born..
in order to pass certain tests.
Thank you for a deep, loving, moving poem.