Life in the Shadowland
'Eric, I'm afraid... I'll never see my child... or know my child... as a man.' His voice is scarcely above a whisper.
'Silent Night' from afar...
a faint moan
escapes his lips
A slanted ray of sunlight falls on the family bible by his bedside. Between the pages of Job, there is a photo of him standing on the Lech path. I remember his dimpled smile as he said, 'I love the clear air in the Alps where I can air my often-tortured brain.'
Comments about this poem (Life in the Shadowland by Chenou Liu )
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