I touch your cheek,

I'm surprised, it's cold.

I reach for your hand

for I need it to hold.

 

I look upon your face

that beamed and sparkled

as we loved and laughed,

wrestled and tickled.

 

Your face is so pallid,

the sparkle is gone,

no more to smile

at the hot summer sun.

 

Your hair neatly tended,

you lie there so still

as I try, with memories,

a dark hole to fill.

 

Childish laughter

and mocking good fun,

a knowing look

from Father to Son.

 

I know that in truth

you are no longer there,

I know you've moved on

to places more fair.

 

And yet, here I stand

in a cold, lonely room,

surrounded by silence,

all alone in the gloom.

 

I take a deep breath

and turn to leave

but something stops me;

makes it hard to breathe.

 

With the last of my courage

thinly veiled with dread,

I lean over and tenderly

kiss your forehead.

 

 

Written by Darren Scanlon, 6th April 2014.

Revised 29th June 2015.

©2015 Darren Scanlon. All rights reserved.