When Dad, When Mom

When
Dad died
I was flying
low over the Colorado
Rockies amongst countless puffball clouds.
I imagined Dad’s spirit rising among them.

When
we approached
the Arizona border
today, clouds also spoke
as ushers to us, receiving our
long expected arrival to make final preparations
to say goodbye, to wrap up
her life here on earth
and to distribute her
things among us
and to
others.

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2 Responses to “When Dad, When Mom”

  1. thekitchenboy Says:

    big clouds here too
    and (just a little)
    sun

    i reckon we’re all looking
    at some of the same
    space

  2. ingrid Says:

    i’m
    glad the
    clouds are there
    to look after
    all of
    you

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