Thursday, April 15, 2010

The House of my Father

I have consigned him to memory -

Dust settles on him
like the haze of light
as it falls through trees
onto a clearing.

I will strive to be at peace
with the knowledge that he
is not really dead,
just dead to me.

And that after all the long years
of growing up, a treasure
in the trove of his love,

I am no longer welcome
in the house of my father.


Blogger Chris Never said...

His loss sweets, very much, his loss

2:31 PM  
Blogger burning moon said...

so sad though, and so pointless. It's such a waste of the little time we have left to share.

Religion has a lot to answer for

3:21 PM  

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