19 Apr 2016
Clipped Wings
of the shade burlesque
awake in mute gray
the walls won’t talk
and she can’t hear
ripped from time
he lay still, cold
as a buried dream
unmoved by her tears
she caresses his toes
they tickle no more
a silence so haunting
fate’s cruel laughter!
“dad, where have you gone?”
she whispers, almost
but then, life is so
a vile trick of time
when she was born
his life became fuller
and in his death
her life now, lighter
“what is this, dad”?
she asked, in a moment past
pointing at the title
of a book he loved
without his saying a word
she now understands
what it means:
“the unbearable lightness of being”
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