Shane Zhao Poet Free verse

The day you left 09-02-24

I'm sitting on the curb of a corner
watching raindrops fall in a misty cloud,
separating under the glow of streetlamps
orange, like the fire at your home.

I remember the three of us,
my mum, you and I
and the card games we shared 
around that crackling fire,

and that day when we two
stepped outside in the winter morn,
a frail and wrinkled hand clasped
around a smooth and fragile one,

and the two pairs of fur-lined boots
sinking footsteps deep beneath the snow
and how, when I slipped and fell inevitably
as all toddlers do,

it was your arms and embrace that came as rescue;
a saviour, haven
like an igloo in a snowstorm,
the bank's prized vault.

And when I watched your eyes close last night,
I cried and bawled helplessly
unable to be your saviour
as time whisked you away forever.

Under your pillow lay an ace of spades,
still and silent like death
but in the warmth of my hand,
bursting, with the power of a new beginning.

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