On the Day Dad Died

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

On the Day Dad Died

Up from the nap
Planning, calling.
Outside swinging.
The pecan tree drops a limb on the car.
I swallow a gnat.
A black cat screams, “Meow” as it slinks past.
 
A breeze picks up.
I circumnavigate this 10 acre world.
The ground here is dirty.
My bare feet are black.
I swallow a gnat.
 
Inside and up the stairs for a shower
Black water swirls in the bottom of the tub as it heads to the drain
My feet are clean
 Comfortable shorts and t-shirt.
 
Yahtze and Rummy – the Freeman social exchange
Glasses of sweet tea our social lubricant
Sarcastic observation and laughter our social language
 
Memories of moments
A breeze picks up and a storm blows in.
 
In a deep place, healing begins
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