Michael Estabrook , Poet

He’s Still Here
Staying with Linda at her place
by the Palm Coast shore,
sleeping in her and her husband’s bedroom.
Ralph passed away eight months ago.
I never knew him, but he’s still here:
photos of him and her on her dresser
on their wedding day,
on their Majesty of the Seas cruise of Nassau,
on an empty street in Barcelona;
a colorful paint-by-number scene
of a sailboat and the sunny shoreline
he did while recovering from surgery;
his two fishing poles leaning silent
as sunshine in the corner of their lanai.

Yes, Ralph passed on eight months ago
from lung cancer, Ralph passed on,
but he’s still here, he’s still here,

Ralph is still here.

 
Talking Picture Frame


For Mother’s Day we got Mom
one of those talking picture frames,
stuck in a photo of the three of us
trying to look worldly-wise and debonair
with her smiling in the middle.

Touch her with your finger tip
and it recites “We love you mom,
Michael, Kerry, Todd.”

A lifetime of sacrifice and worry,
love, toil, pain, and anguish
boiled down to seven simple words
and a poke in the chest.

©Copyright 2006 by Michael Estabrook

 

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