Hello Friends,
This Saturday marks two years since my Father’s passing. Grief is a strange thing that it plays by its own set of rules and can drag you back into its depths without warning. The following free verse poem is an echo from that dark place we find ourselves in.
Still Here:
I’m still here
to witness the world
and relay my observations
in poems you’ll never read
They’ve crucified Woody Allen,
I didn’t see that one coming
I grind my teeth thinking of February,
and now it hurts to chew
I’d sleep the rest of this week away
if life would let me
I’d disappear into myself
and never come up for air
Every death I’ve experienced
was like a bomb exploding, with
ways of life and family members blown
in a thousand directions
When the dust settled,
broken, bloody shapes pulled themselves
to their feet and
limped forward, ears ringing,
into a new world
-Brandon White
Brandon White 