BEFORE DEATH.A Poem by Terry CollettA FATHER CONVERSES WITH HIS DEAD SON.I didn't know, the first time, you were dying; thought it something else causing you ill; if I’d known I’d have stayed there still. What was dying like the first time around? We were there the second time, holding your hands, egging you to stay, but you were taken away. I miss your coming and going; your humour and Mutley laugh; your soft spoken voice, your bright eyed stare. I didn't know, that first time, you were dying; we spoke of mundane matters; no great speeches as history dictates, as the famous do. Just us talking the small things through; you hard of breath, puffed up, unknown to us, nearing to death. © 2014 Terry Collett |
AuthorTerry CollettUnited KingdomAboutTerry Collett has been writing since 1971 and published on and off since 1972. He has written poems, plays, and short stories. He is married with eight children and eight grandchildren. on January 27t.. more..Writing
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