Yesterday's News

Yesterday’s News

The corner of your letter crumbles between my fingers

Floats and drifts to barren ground

And broken pieces of my heart follow

         I miss you.

The scent of Avon’s Bird-of-Paradise

Wafts and rises from tattered envelopes

Bringing your hollow face to mine.

         Did you see the news today?

Your words shout from the night air

Scream and echo to the heavens

From nameless faceless hospital rooms.

         Can you see them?

         I wish you were here.

Wounded parts of your body roar

The breath of smoke and sugar illness

Falls and hides your life and your death.

         Did God hold your hand?

         Did I forgive the doctors?

Your handwriting lingers behind a veil

Its living proof of your absence your fragrance

Impressed and etched on generations.

         Oh, how I miss you.

Prayers drenched with anguish—yours and mine

Words written for your grandchildren

Welcomes and greets those who come after.

         Will you plead for those behind the mask?

For all the children we’ll see one day

As grace mingles with ragged unkept promises

Sings and rises from fragments of yesterday’s news.

         Crying for all who need hope.

         For myself without you.

Today I’d drink most any rain

And toast to friends in spite of missing them

Mends and reconciles family for tomorrow’s headlines.

Holding hands in death—and life.

by Patricia Tiffany Morris

Originally posted on Poetry A Day 2020 Challenge by Writer’s Digest.

April 18th, 2020 Day 18 Challenge