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Nothing said. But,
trailing close behind you
is my farewell, though a bit late.
And when we meet again
there will be
the uncertainty
of happy smiles at last.
The need for words, it was
my shadow, but not yours.
And what we talked about
was always introductory.
As if the main meal
still could wait,
perhaps the guests
would break the ice,
and change the thaw
into sweet wine
to loosen stubborn tongues.
And of the promises
expected and directed,
was there a plan
that could surpass
common convention?
Will we,
when crossing paths
then walk together?
Make up for time
you did not have,
and would not take
on this God's earth?
Will there be wine to drink
and time to dwell,
is it the company
to fill a need?
Creating what turned
into little 'you'
was rather easy
and perhaps coincidental.
But when you left
you tore the stuffing
out of hearts
that were
but ill-prepared
to see you part
so very soon.
Things left unsaid,
undone, unfelt
and unbeknownst
will be my luggage
when we meet again,
my son.
Though time will drag,
as you would know,
its clumsy feet,
I'd call it Bliss
if you could send
a tiny sign.
Herbert Nehrlich
Read poems about / on: farewell, son, change, together, happy, time, god, smile
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