Circle Unbroken Poem by John F. McCullagh

I remember a day somewhere in time,
Before these words were spoken.
When I was still your little one
And our circle was unbroken.
.
Then I came to the foot of your bed
Watching, , helpless, sighing
Shallow breathing, then a gasp
Then silence. Someone crying.

In this grey world I dressed in black
In somber tones of night
I walked like one still in shock
Uncertain of the light.

Sometimes I sat here in your room
Quiet and alone
As if the presence of your things
Could lure your presence home.

Once on a midsummer’s night
As I approached my home
The front door opened welcomely
But I was quite alone.

The night was hot, no breathe of air
No breeze to make it move
What’s more I’m sure I locked that door
But its nothing I can prove

Some explanation might be found
For what occurred that night
And probably my thoughts unsound
But I took comfort from that sight

I remembered a day somewhere in time,
Before these lines were spoken.
For I am still your little one
our circle is unbroken.