No Time to Why
My warm hand touched cold glass
I wait as the imprint fades
My cut-out soul stares past
The memories that you made
Your warm eye sang words true
Of mist meetings should have held
My pen draws love of you
The empty vessel child
Our warm feet will walk lands
As Neptune steals time away
My tears will pearl with sand
The breath of an autumn day
What is left. My Dad died from Covid on 31st October 2020.
My Dad was my backbone, and I held his words very dear.
My painting is a self-portrait of what is left of me.
Putting the broken pieces together, to make a different version
Of yourself, is what must be done.