You are here.
Like a whisper
memory flickers.
I touch you my son –
asleep, so still,
eyes closed to the light,
skin cool and smooth as marble.
On the table
baby’s breath and roses.
Hallmark cards
fill the room –
hugs, kisses,
distant relatives.
On your father’s cheeks
I see tears
of joy.
From boy to man to nothing left
of joy.
I see tears
on your father’s cheeks.
Distant relatives,
hugs, kisses
fill the room –
Hallmark cards,
baby’s breath and roses.
On the table,
skin cool and smooth as marble.
Eyes closed to the light,
asleep, so still.
I touch you my son.
Memory flickers.
Like a whisper
you are here.

 © Susan Constable

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