My Father's Laughter

My Father’s Laughter

When the life of flowers

is cut off

looking their best

fresh from the morning

sunshine,

onto the silence

of the living room table,

they give us joy only

for a while;

when beautiful sounds

end up encased in a song

of thanksgiving,

the beloved listens to

you ever

more attentively.

But you don’t hear me

anymore than these flowers

I’ve just placed

beside your portrait,

dear father.

The branches have

been broken, and

the weary days

cut off from your

presence

have been a

hindrance to my years.

Nevertheless,

our shadows have kept

growing upon the

silent waters of

younger years,

when we used to scare

the fishes with

our laughter gone by,

running fast with

the river, to fill God knows

what Eternal void!