i think of you in the best light,
where as my father casts your own shadow back on to you,
even in death.
he told me today that he has tried to think of you fondly-
tried to remember your eyes that much brighter,
that much more kind,
that much more giving.
now the guilt has eaten me for doing just the same,
because i see her eyes in mine,
just as he sees his in yours.
father to father,
mother to daughter,
life to death-
shadowed in the inability to ever be consoled again.
YOU ARE READING
speak softly
Poetryyou speak until your breath gives out, and the shallow huffs of words they never heard beg to be buried; but live on in the sidewalks. - - - prose/poetry
