I wasn’t there

I wasn’t there,
I didn’t see
the coffin lowered
deep. I didn’t
hear the words
that led your way
to endless sleep.

I wasn’t there,
I didn’t see
the dirt that fell
like rain; I didn’t
hear the soundless
screams, that led
my way to pain.

I wasn’t there,
I didn’t feel
the cruel embrace
of death;
I didn’t know
your last farewell,
that led me on
to grief.

I wasn’t there,
but down you went,
not far, but ever deep;
 the dirt still fell,
the tears did too,
the memories
to reap.

I wasn’t there,
I didn’t see
the end sealed
fast in stone;
the grass hugs hard
around your heart,
and still
I am not there.

84

N.B. on missing my father’s funeral.

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About rosross

Editor, writer, poet.
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