Foreshadow

My father - a tall shy man-

Lay dying in his Barcalounger.

Tears lay unshed between us.

I was nineteen.

Our prayers took the form of

Smoothing lotion on his hands &

Feet. Visions filled my mind.....

Defeated oat cells giving up &

threshed by holy god.

I never had much heart after that.

My mother so far and filled with

Contempt. She hired professionals

To clear the house of dark spirits.

Which is why, long before covid, I

Hesitate to smooth the hair of my

Son. Too much for me to contemplate

Holding your hand. A dismal example

Of faith in action.