"granddchild" poems
I've grown weary of funerals
yet I'm just 25
But I think none is as tired as my uncle
In a span of nearly three decades
He buried
His parents, a sister,
two sons, two brothers
and one granddchild
And yet he managed a smile
held my hands in his
whispered I love you
when it was my turn to bury my father.
Oct 13, 2010
Oct 13, 2010 at 9:09 PM UTC