Haiku Hump-day (except it's Tuesday)
This is What I’ll Remember
A sudden silence.
Just the clattering of leaves;
plaintive cries of crows.
As they fold the flag:
a rigid, austere gesture,
surprisingly tender.
The ancient autumn tree
stretches its wide branches down
in a golden embrace.
Megan M. Mullin
10/25/11
***
Almost two weeks ago, my uncle passed away. He was ill, so I guess it wasn't "unexpected." But the end came very fast. Too fast. And I haven't really been able to talk about it in general - let alone over the world wide interwebs.
But I wanted to honor him. Because he was awesome. Because I love him. Because he will be profoundly missed. This image has been floating around my brain since the ceremony at the cemetery, and I think I've finally found a way to put it in words. It's still a bit outside-looking-in...but. It was a beautiful moment.
Take care, Uncle Bob.
A sudden silence.
Just the clattering of leaves;
plaintive cries of crows.
As they fold the flag:
a rigid, austere gesture,
surprisingly tender.
The ancient autumn tree
stretches its wide branches down
in a golden embrace.
Megan M. Mullin
10/25/11
***
Almost two weeks ago, my uncle passed away. He was ill, so I guess it wasn't "unexpected." But the end came very fast. Too fast. And I haven't really been able to talk about it in general - let alone over the world wide interwebs.
But I wanted to honor him. Because he was awesome. Because I love him. Because he will be profoundly missed. This image has been floating around my brain since the ceremony at the cemetery, and I think I've finally found a way to put it in words. It's still a bit outside-looking-in...but. It was a beautiful moment.
Take care, Uncle Bob.