—

July 26

The Sunrise.

Saturday. The landing.

You hardly wake.
The morphine is in.
The breathing is erratic.
The oxygen low.

Dad, do you see the sunrise?
Yes, you said.
Go, I said.
The full glory of the Lord most high.

Undimmed since the beginning of time.
Those nail-scarred hands that never let you go,
Now welcome you home.
And one day, I’ll see you again.