It’s morning,
And I can hear the birds chirping as the hatchlings eagerly wait to be fed, a
nd the parents scour the grounds for worms.
I hear the whispers and laughter in the distance as children
on their way to school stand at the bus stop.
And I hear the voices of the teens that walk there.
Toddlers are whisked away in their strollers and by hand,
on their morning walks with the grands,
as I hear their playful conversations.
Other little ones ride by in excitement and wonder on scooters and tricycles,
as I hear “stay on the sidewalk.”
Neighbors go about morning activities,
as I hear the wrestle with trash cans and lawn mowers.
And I hear some chatting as they gather at the mailboxes,
to collect mail from the day before.
Cars whiz by as their drivers make their way to work,
or run their morning errands,
as I hear the music in the background.
Joyfully.
And the sound of dogs, big ones and little ones,
vying for position startle me with their barks.
It’s morning.
There is activity all around me.
Outside.
But inside, inside there is silence.
The house so still I can hear the softness of my scarf
as it falls from my hair on the hardwood floor.
The house so quiet, my thoughts are awakened
by the sound of its stillness.
And the reality settles in once again.
It’s morning.
And you are not here.
And although it takes everything in my being,
to get up,
I arise,
Because it’s morning.
And I must go on.
I arise,
Because it’s morning.
And I must go on.
In the shadow of my grief….
Sis. E and Joseph’s mom
Copyright ©2017 EvelynFannell
Copyright ©2017 EvelynFannell