Noise of Silent Vigil

I whistled past the graveyard yesterday.

She’s gone but lingers still in eyes and smiles of mine and other’s children.

In quiet vigil, I spoke not a word while the silent anniversary of her passing broke the air.

I held her grandchildren tightly as I tucked them in.

I wrapped them in child blankets made with crippled hands.

I stroked her hair upon their heads and kissed her lips upon their face.

I read them poems from a book she read to me.

So many years gone and her scent is still upon me.

Memory of cold hard hands and icy stare still curse, bless me.

I dream of being held as I dreamed when still she could.

She is gone – and not – and I still see her here.

~ bosco

Published by Bosco O'Brian

What I say here may or may not be decide. Read my thoughts and know me. If you like what you see, reach out. If not, move on.

One thought on “Noise of Silent Vigil

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