You come in flashes,
taking my hand at times
or simply whispering my name.
Memories wash over me,
flooding my soul
like a river.
But then it is dry again,
and I find myself grasping
to recall:
your voice
your touch
your smell
your essence
SLC feels empty;
somber and stifled;
lonely and still.
A great man has left,
to return home
to all that was before
and shall come after.
I love you Dad,and I miss
your "Top of the Mornings"
Rest in Peace,
until we meet again.
