ON FINDING THE HENDRIX TEE SHIRT.

A FATHER TALKS TO HIS DEAD SON

I found
your Jimi Hendrix
tee shirt, Ole,

while sorting tee shirts
on the hangers
in my wardrobe,

there underneath
them all
it was found at last.

I remember
you wearing it,
remember your body

filling it out,
the Jimi Hendrix image
almost coming to life.  

What tee shirt
you were wearing
that night your heart

stopped the first time around,
I cannot think,
other matters occupy

my mind,
other images fill
my night induced sleep

when sleep comes
finally if at all.
How long

had your heart stopped
before they got it
going again?

Who found you?
3 hours or more or less
after I left

the hospital ward?
I am glad I found
your Hendrix tee shirt;

I hugged it tight,
chocked up a bit,
imagined you

were there inside,
pretended momentarily
you had not died.