Going Home: NaPo WriMo #10

The Going Home celebration was sudden.
Three days before Christmas he was chosen.
Cold and gray and surreal was that day.
A flock of black birds flew his spirit to the sky.
I had to be strong.
I could not cry.

On the gurney he lay, still warm to the touch.
I caressed his face, ran my fingers in his hair.
It was like silk and whiter than before.
He was still warm.
Please wake up.

My plea went unaswered as tears leaked from my eyes.
We had to go.
We had to go.
We had to go home without him.

Planning began with wild calls to all.
I was the one who did it all.
I was strong as others mourned.
My mourning was alone, in the car, on the way home.

My mouth opened to let the gutteral screams out.
Tears flowed like a river.
My own soul was going to fly out.

Four day later the celebration began.
Testimonies, muic and a life in review.
Family together for the last look at you.

In the moment we are one in grief.
Solidarity will be over with you at rest.
You, surrounded by velvet and dressed in your best,
leave just memories of you at your best.

Alone I will visit your memories.
Alone I can visit you.
Time as the enemy brings fading.
Thanks for the dreams and
I thank you for the song.

2 thoughts on “Going Home: NaPo WriMo #10

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