Souvenirs Part 2

papa faisant marcher Joy

 

His eyes were drinking the last sunlight of the day.

A tableau nouveau was up in the sky.

The joys he felt gave him blurred fragments of his life:

This isn’t as bad as it seems,

There’s a faded picture of his father walking the child he was

The picture swells up and its occupants come alive

The smells, the birds outside, the meaningless sounds of the father to the child

Eyes rolled back, he relives that moment and wishes it to stay

But that moment fades like all the best things he’s ever had

Loss had dug valleys on his face

The sun, the moon and the stars played in his eyes

And despite the seduction of complete surrender

He breathed  and lived every breath.

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