Good Friday - Julie Angry at Me

by

Joris John Heise

Some deaths touch us not—
A news report, a distant cousin,
A shadow of someone long, long gone,
A history lesson, a retired someone.

In other deaths, no one dies dead,
But dead they are to us,
Their absence looming
And our tears shed as hard, or harder.

Their gone-ness voids our time with emptiness,
With horror, too, that once-loved they are not,
And their laughter on the tape is hardest yet
Because the laughter is laughter stilled for us.

No hand in the hair, no gentle jibes,
No catching eyes crinkling with unspoken fun,
No, nor time in silent, cozy snugness
Of warm bodies being next to mine.

Each Good Friday hurts hard and harsh,
Tears unwelcome and necessary knell
Departure from this life of ours
In mourning, mournful toll of pain.

NEXT?
Why don't you look at The Harry Potter World
by: Wesley A. Storer
from: Spokane, WA, US

To visit all of Joris John Heise's poems, click HERE

Check out these deals at Amazon.com

...the best independent ISP in the Twin Cities

To write us about this page,
contact willy@dreamagic.com (Willy Chaplin)