2007-03-07 - 6:45 AM

his birthday was sunday. he would have been 46. here is something i wrote for him. it took me 2 years before i was able to put my grief into words. i suppose it will take much longer to still the panic attacks.

red roses under the dirt

dozens and dozens
red petals �
cascades
dripping down the sides
a fine casket
of blue and silver
silk white inside
we placed mementos
in your pockets
your little girls note
a blue crayon and
a blank slip of paper
a napkin from our wedding day
a locket and photo
don't forget me
we pat your cold hand
my legs feel weak
there is no strength left to move
someone comes to hold me up
a wooden egg from uncle�
a model harley
cd and homebrew�fishing lure
all these lay like precious toys
around you or in your pockets
something to keep you company
something to ease our pain
some token of our affection
tear stained faces
stunned and walking shocked
you lay in your leather jacket
jeans and Rush t-shirt
with your favorite hiking shoes
and in the middle of the viewing
i lean down to peer under the
sheet to see if they really put them on
it was hard to leave your side
cold and stiff
just a painted shell of you
parade of cars and motorcycles
your brother rode yours behind you
dressed in suit and tie
beside him danny rode in full dress leather
with blonde girl in leather clinging
clinging leather behind
you would have smiled
as your parade took you to lay to rest
we sat in a black limo
and as the door closed
your baby's sobs tore my heart
out by the roots
blood red blooms
in memory of
the love the pain
all the roses
you bought me over the years
they rest
still under all that dirt
red roses laying over you
like a warm blanket

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