A Dirge
(In memory of Uncle Thomas)
Bumpy breeze, like a blasting roar
That day when you did soar without an oar
Twenty-two years of sorrow, too long
For many years, I sang a solemn song
Days of dark, and greedy clouds
These years have been a time of thunderclouds
What went wrong for death to take you away?
Again, this year, your memory will keep us at bay.
Your days were not in vain.
Life ends, life begins; the thrusting train
Is still on track. Gone from this world
But not from my world
With Habakkuk Kargbo (Rabbi)
©Poem Makers SL (18/03/24)
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