He Smiled
I met a man -
one could hardly deem old.
His smile was warm, yet
his hands were quite cold.
I asked the gentleman:
“Do you remember my name?”
I queried the chap:
"Do you know why I came?"
I solemnly wondered
if this tranquil soul heard.
Again, the man beamed;
speaking nary a word.
I harkened his heart
'bout my wares as a child -
the man calmly listened;
he comfortably smiled.
I prattled on
'bout my debonair Dad -
how I truly valued
the cherished moments we shared.
Private passioned spirits
rivaling a deity's gold.
Handel's honored messiahs
chanting secret fables untold.
I asked the quiet nobleman:
"Can a son's tears be reposed?”
My Father simply smiled as
his maple-casket lid -
closed.
Copyright © John Heck | Year Posted 2008
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