04 December 2018

Papa


your death was an accident
a man driving drunk,
nothing out of the ordinary here
but you stayed faithful to the end
purposeful even in passing –

rising, bloody and broken, to your knees
the unbroken flow of the sign of the cross,
a prayer to your Father,
and down, to death

your very shoes were flung off
by the force of the impact -

one hit the windshield of a car passing by
a car that didn’t kill anyone
the driver returned it,
a kindness that burns

the other flew off your foot
we don’t know where it went
or who found it
and if they wondered about the owner
long after we buried you

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