JUST FIVE MORE YEARS

In the Nursing home,

my father seemed so small,

not the towering burly figure

I remembered as a child,

the whiplash of his tongue

tall as Aspen Pines;

the crest of his anger

rising and falling

like the Man in the Moon.

Now he peered out from

behind glazed over eyes

barely recognizable except for their

surrendered blue

which was hard to accept.

Just five more years,” he said to me.

“All I want is to live five more years.”

He was 85.

I think three weeks passed when he

stated this.  Then the

dreaded pneumonia, which seems to

rob the elderly most

commonly,

well it found, and claimed,

him too.

One rough night of painful

breathing and never saw

the dawn of his 86th light.

He had never asked for much,

except, perhaps, that I be perfect,

which of course I wasn’t.

And if he came back alive today,

he surely

would have said,

that’s what killed him.

But despite the relationship

we never had,

the embrace that would never come,

the shadow of his voice,

(which is all an echo is),

won’t leave me.

The memory of his one

little wish

never leaves me.

Are we all to end up an

echo inside someone’s head?

Five more years…

                             Just …five…more…years

*•.¸♥♥¸.•*

© Susan Joyner-Stumpf

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Comments
  1. so sad,, this really hits home..to almost everyone one time or the other.. love your poem.. as usual.. your awesome… love u susan

  2. Hey Deb, yes, this is a biographical Poem, meaning, all true. I still hear those haunting words of his. He really never asked for much………….and though he was my worst Abuser, he was still a human who only wanted to live on this Earth…..five more years. But three weeks after he stated his last wish to me, he was gone. If I close my eyes, I still hear that crooning voice…..five…..more…years.

    God had other plans.

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