Good Morning

Good morning, daddy,
I stepped into your room today
And gazed longingly upon your picture
Taken by the Suwannee River one Sunday

It was in November and turning cold
The weather was still sunny with a glow
As we walked upon the river’s edge
Enjoying the serenity of the water’s silent flow.

I had my camera in my hand
As you sat upon an old lounge chair to rest.
You looked so much at home sitting there
I captured your image with you at your best.

You wore your old fedora
One of dozens you’d worn throughout life.
Your wind-breaker was one I bought for you
And dark pants you wore as you always did.

As I snapped the picture
You turned your head toward me
Gazing into my face
So the blue of your eyes I could see

Now, when I look at your picture
You’re still looking into my eyes
As though you’re still here with me
 Triggering memories and sad sighs.

Yes, I said good-morning, daddy,
Am I a fool to talk to a picture in a frame?
“Perhaps,” some folks might say or think,
Yet, I talk to God whom I cannot see,
So, like God, maybe daddy is here with me.

© 2007 Jeanette Cooper