I saw pain in his eyes.
I couldn't help but wonder
how he could hear thunder
with no cloud in the sky.
Like snow in July;
a blizzard in summer.
Life went on around him,
yet he was dying inside.
A day of his demise?
Maybe just the start.
But I could tell, in part,
by the look in his eyes.
When his spirit began to rise,
Perhaps, he heard distant laughter
coming from the hereafter
to replace all my cries.
I saw peace in his eyes,
I couldn't help but smile,
He was here for a while,
Then said his good-byes.
A poem for Dad
