Sunday, December 11, 2016

Kerri Shying R # 153 - Bruce


Bruce.
for Dad

the pop and flutter of that red ripe
strawberry in your brown chest

where our fears rest  near his small white
spot   children’s fingers what

makes that white
dad   it just is    is what

it is  that is what it is
always know it set in stone

it grew within us  tot to teen
death’s inside us   there

unseen  time never has to go unfelt
not when heartbeats can be

held like hands   heard
listened to like song

life is gloriously long

4 comments:



  1. or as Manning Clark always said / wrote

    life is immense

    !

    powerful stuff

    ReplyDelete
  2. Kerri, I love this poem. It’s beautiful.

    ReplyDelete
  3. and a glorious last line for a moving poem

    ReplyDelete

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