Billy looked up into the sky.
Tell me ma why did you die?
Dad and I miss you so.
Why did you have to go?
I’m only ten years old.
I’ll get over it I’m told.
It will hurt less and less each day.
That is what the old folks say.
I dream about you in the night.
I see you there in plain sight.
But once awake I know it’s not true.
Was what I dreamt really you?
I see you now in the sky
Will I see you when I die?
© Susan Zutautas 2019
This was written for a flash fiction over at Fandango’s
Beaitifully done. I think we all become a child again in our hearts and minds when a parent passes. The loss is so much to comprehend.
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It sure is, and thank you!
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Lovely
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Thank you.
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lovely poem Susan, fresh and innocent thoughts of a child. Sad though when a child has to go through grief.
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Thank you, and yes it is so very hard on a child when they lose a parent or loved one.
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Really beautiful. A nice interpretation of the image.
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Thank you!
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That is beautiful, and so like a child’s thoughts.
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Thanks so much!
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