Sometimes
she dials her father’s telephone number
she creates a scene of surprise after his dinner hour
he will put down the glass of cognac,
pick up the phone and inquire,
who is calling, his voice full and familiar,
the tone changing when he hears
love fragments she’s whispering.
Does she forget that he passed away?
She remembers she loves him
time doesn’t matter
her phone call, her invisible happiness.
When you meet her, if you don’t know
what to say, hug her
the “power of kindness” is subtle
she will understand, your arms
holding her close, she will hear
the song your heart is singing.
So beautiful and poignant, Edgar. Thank you.
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Thank you Heather.
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