 |
| Jackie and her son Ben |
who's happy I decided to get up.
Thankful for coffee that's ready to pour.
I pick up a spoon and stir contentedly,
walk to the sink without even thinking to
rinse it off. I never used to do that.
You did, though,
every morning you were here,
and if I close my eyes you're back
in my kitchen, filling it with energy,
happy memories of your laugh and
patterns, unique ways you
move through life. The water's fresh and
clean and pure as I want everything
to be for you. Standing in footprints
you left behind, I offer up a prayer,
offer up my love for you. Perhaps
they're the same thing.
(c) Ellen Gillette, 2012
My long, long, looooong-time friend Jackie Culpepper sent me some thoughts this week about her son Ben that were close to being a poem, just needed a little direction. This is what we ended up with, and she graciously said I could post it here.
No comments:
Post a Comment