Through Death - Michael Hemmer

Through Death

The voice comes through the plastic, familiar
But unusual, almost like it is hiding something.
Then the cold wave comes crashing through me,
Replacing all the warmth from the world with cold shock.
Everything freezes.

A weight falls upon my shoulders,
I am paralyzed by its sudden burden. A presence enters
The room, one I have never known before. Death
Places his hand upon my shoulder in sympathy
And leaves.

The onslaught of clichés come forth in a feeble attempt
To give me comfort, yet somehow they help. I start
Comprising a list of all the now unimportant tasks I need
To accomplish before I hit the dusty trail through Nebraska.
Alone.

Eyes reddened from the long drive winding through the fields.
The faces of relatives welcome me, though distorted by
Grief. The only real comfort I receive is from the faces of my brothers,
Both pillars of strength in which my burden is shared.
I glace past them to the empty chair he sat in every time
I visited, it was void. A new piece of reality set in
As another wave of cold shock passes through
Me.

I stand alone staring down into the wooden casket, his empty
Body sets before me. I hold back the tears as long as I can as
The Final Wave of the cold hits me, my body now numb to the shock.
My brothers join me and with a silent nod we all three agree.
This man, at 77, left a legacy that has only been partially written,
And it is up to us to pick up the pen.