It's been six years, one month
and fourteen days since the last
time I heard your voice, but I still like
to think that the whisper of
the first breeze of each dawn
is your way of saying hello to the world.
I like to think that
when the sky is softening to a light
blue, you're in the faraway
gently glowing sunbeam reaching
out to touch me.
I still lay by the fireplace
and under blankets in the winter,
imagining that I can snuggle in your
arms, mumbling to myself:
"The world is a very cold place, papa."
Judging comment: six Years by nourayasmine points 10 - Although this is a very sad piece the imagery within it made me ponder about it since the moment I read it which is one of the reasons I'm giving my 10 points.
Heartbreaking, to lose a parent, loved one is tear gripping and one never loses the pain but to write
with such soft elegance and expression is just powerful to the reader. This is beautiful and sorrowful
poem. Just lovely.