Abed, staring vacant
into engrossing dark night.
Rhythm of heartbeats.
Of drops from old bath tap.
Tud, drip, tud, drip...
I move into shadow lands
of an enervated slumber.
It's been ages, it seems.
Waiting outside the surgical
to perform it urgent,
as the door closed behind,
there hangs a moment
as heavy as the universe.
Muffled sighs, choked sobs-
I alone still see the last look-
a father to his other, his son.
I alone do see it invisible:
that blue bird, unheard wings
passing out of closed doors
through the narrow corridor.
It lingers before me
with never told stories.
I don't need proof to out
as a doctor, out with bowed head,
to spell out, inciting that
terrible common yell.
A soft hand on my forehead,
a soft sound, familiar, yet strange,
“Sleep becalmed, my son!”
I ask him, “Dad, why me?
I never obeyed you.!”
“You fool! You were me.
I never obeyed anyone!”
He was never so soft.
(The last stanza of the poem is greatly influenced by George Herbert's poem "The Collar")
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