No Time For Goodbye


Prompt: Pen your own memento of interacting with the dying…or imagine one.

 

He took a deep breath
Who knew then
it would be his last?

My mother screamed

My brother and I
dispatched to fetch help

I remember walking slowly
as if on a leisurely jaunt

No words exchanged
until my brother said,
“Dad’s gone”

I didn’t ask how he knew

until many years later

And he replied, “I just felt it
That’s why I didn’t tell you to run”

© 2016 Uma Venkatraman ~ All Rights Reserved

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