The Thirteenth Year
For my father
Published in
Nov 6, 2023
To call it fuliginous
would not capture the blackness
of this day. The thirteenth year
is no different than the twelve
preceding; the loss is not likely
to lessen in the next year coming.
Your ghost has all but disappeared
long ago. It still lies hidden
beneath my eyes and can’t be seen
except on the odd day
when the skies take on a cold
shade of gray.
But the sun shines through today
and cuts through the chill that burns
deep within my bones on this
All Saints and for that I
suppose I should be glad.
But somehow, I just can’t break through
the dark that settled in my soul
some thirteen years ago.
©2023 Darryl Willis
