It was like a remote yesterday when you took me kite flying. I can remember vividly the ice cream cone afterwards and then mom having Autumn dinner ready and it was a homemade beef vegetable pie...
After grace dad said that he was leaving soon and that he had to go to heaven -go because he had cancer.
Did god give you that'? I said to dad. Mom reservedly quipped no it was satan. Later at bed time I prayed to god, and he said that it was dad himself.
© S. Wesley Mcgranor
1/20/18
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem