Dads’ calloused hands, age- softened,
gentle against my tear-stained cheek.
Heaving breath moves in un-metered rhyme,
his raspy whisper expelled with effort.
Exhorting, exhorting,
My heart strives,
finding strange peace.
Beauty, cloaked in pain,
is revealed between us.
I grapple with words,
to speak.
None.
There are none,
to fill a lifetime,
But for three-
“I love you.”
A man of eighty years,
seeks his rest,
and I -
I walk the middle ground,
learning the art,
of how to say
goodbye.
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Comments: 10
My heart is so touched by your beautiful sentiment about your father. I weep with you in my heart and extend my sincerest compassion. You have composed an astoundingly beautiful masterpiece of love. It would make your father, your hero, extremely proud. God Bless.
God Bless You both.