For sev'ral years, the coming and the going
Had life in bags and boxes, packed away;
Then suddenly, there wasn't any knowing
Where things had gone, on any given day.
And when we came undone, dividing out
The contents of it all became a task
That neither of us cared to talk about,
Though ev'ry now and then, someone would ask
Have you seen this or that, I just can't find it...
...the bookcase maybe, have you looked behind it...
But after many months we ceased to bother.
And so, I lost a letter from my father.
He'd written it when marriage number one
(That's mine, not his) had all but come apart,
A simple note, a father to his son,
His observations on the human heart,
And something something this, when love has died,
And something that, when everything was tried...
The memory is faded. He's been dead
For fifteen years; exactly what he said
May not have been enough to make it better,
But still, I wish that I could find the letter.
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Comments
His observations on the human heart,
Here's hoping that one day you find it. It sounds like a very special letter.
Holds memories dear, perhaps words of advice
It cannot be replaced nor be re-done
And nothing but it will ever suffice.
I hope you find it, dear DB.
I hope you find the letter or peace.
Rated with hugs
Please accept my apologies for this one blanket thank-you. I hope to have some time to answer comments this weekend. In the meantime, you're all the greatest, every single one of you.
Goodnight all!