Tuesday, March 23, 2021

The Coffin

 23rd March 2021

A Poem- The Coffin


I peer down at you,

Your face serene, wrinkles smoothed out,

A heavenly countenance.

Your hands clasped together,

Resting on your favourite dress,

The blue one,

What is that weird, stretchy, material?

I’ll remember in a minute –

Oh, yes, crimplene,

In your hands-

Hands, that milked cows,

Toiled in harvests,

Baked soda bread,

Scrubbed kitchen floors,

Softly caressed loved ones-

In those hands, gnarled

with a full life lived-

your rosary,

wound between your fingers,

as it used to be,

long ago 

when you and I,

prayed together,

in the kitchen, or

in your bedroom.

Your sing song voice,

Speaking to love itself.

I miss that.

Here you are in this box,

Gone now.

Gently, I release your rosary,

Each finger, giving in

To my longing.

 I lift it to my lips,

Kiss the memory of you.

Quietly, though others

May hear,

I whisper familiar words,

Our words.

Tears try to break through,

I can’t keep them back.

In the end

I have to let them flow,

Dear Nan,

I didn’t want you to go.





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