Given Up

That Saturday morning Dad went to rest
forever on his old bed
and that old mattress,
I was in the kitchen
cleaning the waffle iron.
It wasn’t as much a mess
As I was when I learned too late
He’d Gone

The heat of the Tucson sun
blasted through the dining window
scattering to the walls from the chandelier
turning the room into a frightening scene
of fleeing spirits rising
like lava lamp ghosts,
invisibly higher
and I wondered if the sun
could just be a crystal in
a bigger chandelier;
another light source behind it.

I cried in the closet that day
with the Samurai sword, old leather jacket,
boxing glove, and bowling ball.
The grief took me too hard
to realize that I now had to find homes
for all these orphaned possessions,
But not hard enough to realize
I would never find
home for myself again.

Published in: on December 13, 2015 at 1:39 am  Leave a Comment  
Tags: , , , , , ,
%d bloggers like this: