(October 6,1950 / New Jersey)

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A Life Rests

Little hands made by God, grasp lovingly my wrinkled hand.
A baby's kiss upon a sagging cheek.
A loving look as our eyes meet - and we both know we are
but passing to the other side.
A baby to it's life - I, with a sigh - to my final resting place.

Submitted: Friday, February 08, 2013

Poet's Notes about The Poem

Two additional thoughts: Gone by the morrow is our meaning,
when death has overcome us.

Thank you, Jesus, for my life, even though
I can't find anything in it right now.

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