reblogging my published poetry
We know you’re gone,
But wish we could have you back.
We know you would if you could,
But we lose again to your attack.
How unfair and cruel it seems
To have lost our reason for living.
It’s hard to adjust to returning
The love you were always giving.
Our children ask about you often.
It’s hard for them to understand.
I try to explain you love them still,
But live in another hand.
Tears of an aching child
Could break the heart of Scrooge.
And when they need your comfort,
Mine is not their refuge.
Oh we know you’re gone,
But wish we could have you back.
We know you would if you could,
But we lose again to your attack.
1989 Written by Gail Brookshire
(published in Flight, Spring ’95, page 16)
(by the grace of God)
gaillovesgod 