I slept soundly,
head sunk into
a cool, feathered pillow.
The morning sun,
soft and bright
gently roused me,
bestowing upon me
the sweet blessing
of disorientation.
Nothing stuck in my mind,
I just enjoyed the warmth
and softness of my father's bed,
not remembering why
I was there.
In an instance,
I remembered,
and it obliterated my peace,
and nothing was ever
the same.
So, I got up,
summoning all my strength
and praying with every exhale,
the morning after
my father died
from a heart attack.
No comments:
Post a Comment