YOUR LAST CARD.

I kept your last
birthday card to me;
tucked it between
books on my shelf,

 

not knowing then
it would be the last;
your small simple script
and name, artwork done,

 

received with all the rest
that day, last year.
I have taken it out
a few times now,

 

read the script over
and over, as if maybe,
more words
might appear,

 

than those before.
I hold it in my hands
and imagine where
your fingers touched,

 

where your pen
scribed the words,
and for that frozen moment
capture part of you again,

 

that feel, that ghostly smell,
thinking maybe
my fingers are, where
your fingers were,

 

your DNA mixing with mine,
mixing together
like good scotch, not wine.
I shall keep

 

your birthday card to me,
keep it safe, re-read
now and then,
pretend each year

 

it came from you,
anew, fresh written,
your fine small hand;
waiting each birthday

 

for it to land,
the birthday card
from my eldest son
(now dead), and when

 

my birthday comes around
once more, I shall take
the card out and read
with all the rest that came,

 

keeping you you always
in my heart and head,
with your small scribed,
loving name.

 

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palewingedpoetess's picture

This is so beautiful..............

You just can't imagine how moving these words written from a father to his dead son mean to me, a fatherless girl. I too love my mother so very dearly and can well imagine her doing this same thing If I were to die. I wrote her a letter/poem one year for Mother's day telling her all the things in my heart I'd never told her before just so God forbid, anything happened to either one of us she would know those things while she was alive and not long after she had died. My sibllings told me she called each of them and read the letter out loud to them and tenderly cried each time she did so. I was so glad I took the opportunity to say all those lovely things. It is in my poems on here titled 'Mommy'  Is rare that I am so so very deeply moved. The wonderful thing is your son knows and still gets to feel that great love and subsequent grief that you have for him. That card found might have even been his spirit's doing just so you could have what you so eloquently describe in this poem.  You have written so purely from your heart. No critique could find even a modicum of fault with that. Thank you so very much for sharing your great love and pain. My spirit addresses your spirit and most lovingly says thank you. Sincerely, Melissa Lundeen

Dadio's picture

Thank you.

Thank you, Melissa, for reading and commenting. Thank you also for sharing you own life experiences, which is good to do as it brings people together. God bless. Shalom.  Terry