Something old

It can't be more than ten years ago that we lost him. But it is. I wrote this just after Charles died but also just after we got a definite diagnosis of cancer for my dad, who died later that same year.  Anyway, I'm choked with nostalgia this winter afternoon, so I might as well re-post something that chokes me even more...

* * *

 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 
Now the hill is flattened
where the farm house stood
where you built the breezeway window
at an angle to let you see
when we were coming up the drive 
Now some minor subdivision
junk bunkers
townies playing country
they love barn siding
tear down the barns
and put it over the bar
they love their cheese
just hate the smell of farms 
Now (too soon)
even your ashes
where are they
where are you
just when I need you
need your laugh
your great big hug
all the orchard trees you tended
with an eye toward future fruit
loved and tended
yes and shared
the apples
oh the apples 
Even now
you and I
there on the hillside
where today there is no hill
September sun warms the fruit
and the wine sweet air
we cut them open first --
you laugh
"The worms only eat the sweet ones!"
we sample this year's fruit
as though it will last 
Then your hand on my shoulder
for just a moment
you steady yourself on me
that pain in your hip
the doctor only tells you to lose weight
you tried all the alternatives
nothing seems to help 
Then it turned out
they had missed the cancer in your bones
until the tumors spread
And then
it was too late 
Even then (too soon)
your smile
a good-bye hug
some tears
and you were gone 
just when I need you

* * *

No comments:

Post a Comment

Thanks for taking the time to leave a comment. Please note that it may take a while to turn the handle of the Crowndot moderation mill and spit out your comment.