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Father

The gentle whir of the machine
pumps temporary relief into your veins.
It happens more than it did;
even yesterday.
You sigh.
The tight grip of your hand relaxes
I release mine and rub some life
into dead fingers.
You never held my hand before
when it mattered;
it was not what men and boys did;
you used to utter.
I lean over
and breathe gently
on your cold grey face
as I gently kiss your forehead;
another thing that boys don't do.
You whisper something
in your fevered sleep
words I wish I knew.
I murmur gently in your ear:
I love you, dad.
Your eyes open in pain.
The machine whirs again.
Your eyes close;
it's sad to think
that we are all sat waiting
for your last gasp.


'Writing Prompt - Breathe -' Contest Joint 1st place.
Published in the collection "It's Not Easy" by Poetry Choice

Copyright © Terry Miller | Year Posted 2021

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Sally Eslinger Date: 5/14/2021 2:14:00 PM Terry, another evocative storytelling poem. Wish I had your talent at this. I am afraid I am about a year from being the one they will sit around, but perhaps our Lord will be merciful. I kissed my daddy’s bald head good-night always. There is a cherished scent in the memory. I love your pen, will Follow. Take care Login to Reply Terry Miller Date: 5/15/2021 1:22:00 AM Thank you, Sally I do like my poems to tell a story, some would call them prosaic, but I enjoy writing in this style.

Constance La France Date: 5/10/2021 1:58:00 PM Terry, congratulations on your win in my Writing Prompt - Breathe - Challenge with this beautifully penned and emotional poem, it really touched my heart, well done, peace _Constance Login to Reply Terry Miller Date: 7/9/2021 1:01:00 AM I want to thank you again for the inspiration to write this poem which was selected for publication. Terry Miller Date: 5/11/2021 12:40:00 AM Thank you so much Constance for placing this poem, it means a lot; your prompt sparked my emotions to pen this very personal, and true, poem.