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)