The Dark of Early December

The Dark of December

Always welcome, and
far from foreign,
thoughts of him
come to me daily.

Grateful for the strength
he shared with me,
from child to man,
I do not dwell on his absence.

Instead, the years
and all they held,
those thoughts, bring smiles.
With one exception.

It comes each year, this
first week of December,
with a weight
I can not escape.

It does not oppress,
but dwells in my mind,
weaving through thoughts,
sights that incite longing.

His strength gone
with the last of his will,
his end came with
the dark of early December.

 

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