I wish you were here again,
my son,
not in death's hold
or other world
I cannot reach;
I wish to hear
your voice once more,
your laughter
and your wit,
your large eyes gazing
with knowing stare;
just you again
here not there.
I wish to see
your face again,
to touch you
and hold, and say
how much I love you
and let the words take air;
to feel you close
to me not far away
but near, not there.
I wish to sense you
close once more,
you watching as I write
or tap tap on the pc
and you over my shoulder
looking to see,
words of my poetry.
I wish you were here
not in death's clutch
or kingdom unseen;
I miss you much.
Sep 1, 2015
Sep 1, 2015 at 2:20 AM UTC
I wish you were here again,
my son,
not in death's hold
or other world
I cannot reach;
I wish to hear
your voice once more,
your laughter
and your wit,
your large eyes gazing
with knowing stare;
just you again
here not there.
I wish to see
your face again,
to touch you
and hold, and say
how much I love you
and let the words take air;
to feel you close
to me not far away
but near, not there.
I wish to sense you
close once more,
you watching as I write
or tap tap on the pc
and you over my shoulder
looking to see,
words of my poetry.
I wish you were here
not in death's clutch
or kingdom unseen;
I miss you much.
A FATHER TALKS TO HIS DEAD SON.
