Shattered
A silver frame, a gold frame,
And snapshots hold him here,
Frozen smile in place (say cheese),
Still, as he almost never was in life.
The beloved timbre of voice, the
Echoes of that exuberant laugh
Inevitably fade, no matter our effort
to keep them from slipping away.
Slowly, as months and years pass,
We knit a comforter of a life
In which we can wrap ourselves
And start a new life – without.
Unsuspecting, one morning,
Someone intervenes with a video,
Remembrances from former times,
Taken by a friend or relative.
He is with us, as if he never left,
Laughing, gesturing, and speaking.
The comforter starts to unravel.
And, once again, we are shattered.
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