Under Water Living

In the eerie presence of the death
it's as if I'm walking under water -
walking, talking, thinking, too
about my son or daughter.

It never was to be this way
I should have gone on first
I question this until I cry
No answer - that's the worst.

I have to think that they are warm
and happy, safe and free
If that's the case, then really,
it matters less 'bout me.

Oh, come home, I want you back
I yearn to scream at times
But you never, never, ever will
In spite of prayers or rhymes.

Sometimes, I catch a little glimpse
a glance of what is past
when we fished or played baseball
but the glimpses never last

One thing that I have noticed
when the glimpses come and go
is that I have a smile upon my face
put there by you, I know.

© Christina 11-21-02

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