Only The Spiritual Poem by Margaret Alice Second

My crocodile dad's gone - he faced the end
without fear - and he never shed a tear, his
eyes remained clear even when his leg was
swollen after his heavy fall; slowly he shuffled
everywhere, until then he

Used to be the Lone Ranger, inspiring such
fear that my haughty Duchess-sis, declared
she didn't love him although I felt love over-
whelming for my beautiful, grey-haired-Santa-
Claus-look-alike crocodile dad

I could hold him and take care of him, the
biggest privilege and most wonderful time
I ever spent with him. He and I used to buy
midnight sweets when mom was away on
her missions… and he always

Remembered every injury of his 5 kids,
every trip to the hospital, every story he
embroidered at bedtime; he spoke of a
Private Detective who swindled Police
while investigating criminals - and

How he was threatened by that Private
Eye to hold his tongue… as his powers
failed dad just groaned, never complained,
never cried, never let on to mom how sore
he was until the end when he couldn't

Breathe anymore & begged to be released
and then he was. I looked upon his waxen
face and emaciated fakir's body rejoicing at
his release - he had been preparing to enter
a heaven of mom's & the Bible's

devising. I held his warm hand though his
spirit was gone and the Funeral Director
feared I might hit him when he came for
the body - but being my dad's crocodile
kid, I was happy just to be

With what was left as his crocodile spirit
soared far away beyond physical sense
to a place where only the spiritual might
reach - maybe…