Memorial Day 2021


the lostkerryman

the most shocking sense about the death of another is the finality of it. it is total absence, with no scents nor sounds. Once there was a presence, now there is no substance. and like a an old pressed flower, it fades, though the pages against which it has rested may have an imprint, left upon another, even when it is gone.

we know you were here, and our memories do not betray us. though they gray with the age of time, the imprint remains within us, even if it is muddied a bit by a dreary rain. we may even forget the face, until we have to glance at a photograph to bring clarity to that muddied imprint.

we who remain behind grapple with a transition that took no amount of time, as they passed from material to another realm, while we remain gaping at the shell, dumbstruck by…

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About Jonathan Caswell

Mr. Caswell has been composing poetry at least since High School. He has been on WORD PRESS for ten years and contributes to two other blogs beside this one. This blog has a Christian emphasis but all bloggers are welcome. Mr. Caswell chooses to---with permission--re[post material of interest

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