Until We Meet Again Poem by John F. McCullagh

I will not let my hand let go your hand.
How little time together here remains:
Dear sister- looking old, frail, and confused-
lost somewhere in Morpheus’ gentle dreams.


The taxi that I called is downstairs waiting,
and shortly I must tear myself away
Knowing that our parting will be final-
We will not meet again till Judgment day.


We started out Depression era babies
When we were young we slept in the same bed
We had little, except each other, sister
but I would want for nothing else instead.



We’ve lived full lives and counted up our loses:
Your husband gone, my youngest in her grave.
It seems to me that we have come full circle
Hard times crash against us like a wave.

Our parents long since gone, their time receding.
Faded photographs behind a frame
When we are gone who then will remember
their lives, their love, their faces or their names.

I take a last long glance to save the memory
Embrace you in a gentle hug, then part
and if I can’t abide with you forever
Live forever young in this old heart.