Sunday, November 21, 2010

On The Death Of My Father



We were never close,
you and I;
the walls between us -
so thick, so high, so impenetrable;
the words you could never speak,
the anger burning me up from the inside,
that, with a letter, cast aside years ago,
finally buried at a simple "I'm sorry";
now, you are but ash and memory,
and I've many miles yet to walk.


©2010  Michael Shelby

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