I’m not on the recommended pace to write a poem each day this month to participate in National Poetry Month, but this one happened in about 30 seconds. There will never be another muse like my Dad. He was a remarkable, wonderful, loving, accepting, listening person.
a tiny poem
droplets of ideas
scattered
in a dusty basket
of tear-shaped
memories
all soft like
your old clothes
only i can’t
remember
the last thing
you said
to
me
© 2019 Glover Gardens
We are in transit, but I just showed this to NJ. It brought a tear to her eye. A year or two after their dad passed, she and her sister wrote a song. Well, she wrote the lyrics out of her head while she was tinkering on the piano. One line haunts us still. “I told you I loved you. I never said thank you.” I’ll find it for you, if you want. the album is called, “Traces of You.” You know what it’s about. 🙂
I know that piece; I listened to it after my Dad died. It’s so lovely, so authentic. Both of your lyrical writing styles have influenced mine and helped me be more simple and authentic. I feel honored that my little outpouring made a connection.
It did. Their dad would have been 99 two days ago. She is a little raw… but we are in the middle of getting seriously jet lagged. Thank for that, humbling. We do feed off of each other…
Sending good juju for a long road trip; and wow, how those memories can zing you, any time, any place.
Touching
Thank you very much.
Thank you so much. Dad was very special and it helps to share him.