Anymore Poem by Richard Betts

As I entered the room and somberly approached his bed,
'Why are you so sad? ' My five-year-old son said.

I gave him a kiss and turned off the light.
'I just found out my uncle died earlier tonight.'

'What happened? How did he die? '
I searched for a response that would avoid a lie.

As I thought in the dark, he waited patiently for his answer.
Finally, I said, 'He died from a disease called cancer.'

We talked about things for a short time. Then I said,
'It's time to get some sleep.' And gently he closed his eyes.

As I turned to leave, my son sat up in his bed.
'You know he's not really dead.'

I returned to his bedside and touched his tiny hand.
I thought he was confused and did not understand.

'He's living in heaven, so in a way he is alive.'
And with his little finger, he pointed toward the sky.

I kissed him again and told him he was right,
My uncle was living in heaven tonight.

As I left the room and closed the door,
I didn't feel quite so sad - anymore.