he was not
a fiery furnace
meant to heat a towering building;
nor yet an explosion
which warms the distant
while incinerating the near.
he was simply
a steady glowing coal
in the family fireplace;
a dependable comfort and light
that burned for nearly eighty
of the twentieth century’s
ever-advancing years;
the quiet warming
bright red ember
that waned, flickered, and died
on a rainy, windy February morning…
I miss you, Dad…
it’s cold.
4 comments:
Lisa, this is so touching and your final lines are so sad.
What a beautiful tribute to your Dad. Thank you for sharing this.
Judi
WOW....
especially since I have spent my day at a family funeral...
Your dad sounds like an amazing soul.
This was beautiful. Thanks for sharing.
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