#greatgranddad
Harry at my elbow waits,
whispers words,
not quite audible
through death's wall,
but tries, and I
in lowly mood
scarce notice
the words from wind,
gazing out at dawn's light,
searching disinterestedly
view's scene of dull of sky
and tree's green,
Harry murmurs
close to ear,
and I unseeing,
think it brain's overspill,
not aware that Harry's
standing there,
birds chorus excitedly,
sun steps out
****** girl shy,
and I gaze out
dark mooded,
see nothing to excite,
nothing beyond
the dull horizon's show,
and still Harry stands
at elbow's touch
and whispers on
through death's cloth,
and I hear not
nor so seems,
thinking perhaps echo
of night's dreams.
Jun 6, 2018
Jun 6, 2018 at 4:40 PM UTC