My daddy seemed healthy;
his doctors disagreed.
Now his favorite shirt
is a 'Daddy' to me.
Long sleeves envelope me--
lovingly, smelling warm--
though the shirt hangs empty
faded hues, frayed and worn.
Draped, it embraces hurt,
as tears streak my pillow.
I weep like a willow
in Dad’s old, flannel shirt.
My boyfriend drove nightly;
his job took him away.
The wreck was unsightly--
we buried him today.
His love still surrounds me
lovingly, smelling warm.
The shirt sleeves are empty
but his worn denim shirt
conveys to him my hurt.
Sad tears streak my pillow . . .
I weep like a willow
in his old denim shirt.
The cradle rocks empty--
my infant sleeps deeply.
Angels share sympathy,
comfort me when I weep,
he died so innocently.
Lovingly, smelling warm
his nightshirt lays empty--
pristine white . . . hardly worn.
Who gives us misery?
Alone infinity.
Sad tears streak my pillow
I weep like a willow
on the soft shirts of life.