I wrote this just now, after having an intense urge to visit my father’s grave.
Eulogy
Prickling the edge of thought,
you gracefully appear within
eyelids, closed against the night,
closed, but seeing you again
tripping through my memories
like some old faded photograph,
and wandering my wasted frame
to find my shriveled heart, and pluck
its strings like a rusty, mistuned harp.
You fade, and then appear again
as though you never left at all,
and all this time has been a dream
wherein you kept concealed until
you found the moment to be ripe,
then stumbled drunkenly about,
turning on the lights in me
and singing soft a lullaby
more beautiful than life itself.
Yet, when I close my eyes again,
there you are, your smile askew,
giving indication that
your touch will shelter, shepherd me;
lure me to your resting place
to lay a tribute at your feet
and give unto your eulogy
a smile, as I kneel down to kiss
your brow, expressing love through earth.
