His last breaths…. from within a white Portland ward, beneath white sheets. Were silent endearing sounds. They were not born of pain, but of peace. His loyal wife…his bonded sons at his side. The oldest son softly whispering, “Go to the light Dad.”, the youngest feeling his Father’s warm hand.
The incoming tidal arms reached his doorway…then bed. The Sea…with it’s captive slow rocking swells…entered him. His breathing was that of one who lives beneath water. No longer completely human. It softly paused…and the Sea receded.
He was as alive as a Wyeth fisherman…as a worn dory. He lived within the Maine ocean currents, in the deep coal black of a lobster’s eyes.
His stonewalls and porches …all complete. He now rested with legs crossed….beer in hand. Smiling at what was… His wives…his children…and the Sea.
Dear father, Have you seen your daughter lately? You are missing a lot. You have missed a gamut of Her cuteness. I see her daily in my classroom, And she is growing into A wonderful young lady. She is smart.
My Father I see her in front of me, but not for long, she Leaves without a Word or goodbye, Disappears into her own brutal Darkness, NEVER seeming to plan to return, a deluded life I lived now shattered IN
I am a creation of yours, taken after you with the same traits and a unique hue, do not have demand, do not have desire but only a need, your little time and attention, indeed. Acknowledged with the labour you