you’re a memory.

i hold you

at the edges

so you don’t disintegrate

and fall between my fingers

to the floor. 

(Source: thedustdancestoo)

observations from a room.

i’ve watched life

wilt, decompose;

losing petals, hair.

whatever.

both flowers

and fathers die,

it’s the enduring

nature of nature.

(Source: thedustdancestoo)

father, we planted you.

sometimes,

when it rains,

i walk through the cemetary

waiting for you to sprout

back to life.

(Source: thedustdancestoo)

haiku #18.

father you sleep still

in the shade of an Oak tree—

or did you ascend?

(Source: thedustdancestoo)