Tweet
GOD's Hand is pulling out my Heart (serious poem!)
Who Else Here
committed such non-fiction?
Who else here
helped his father die?
Who held his breath
As if his own, and sensed
His every sigh?
Who talked a week
Of life long-lived
But not for long enough?
Who lifted Father's body
From the bed unto the bier?
And placed the body from that cart
Into the casket clear?
With bare hands upon my flesh
—For his flesh is mine, and, too
I laid that body in the box
That buried all of his
Hopes of better things to come
—We know nothing
Comes——anon
Last words before the silence
— "Good night Son" —
___________________________
_________________________________
______________________________________
ten thousand words are penned each day
of blood that leaks into the clay
of earth, that God hath made for us
to linger in, and ponder
dearth!
Comment