Grief

hawk

But now my father had died. Hold tight.

Hold tight.

The words on the page stung.

Something far away was too familiar.

Suddenly

This memoir in my hands –

Love and bereavement tangled,

laid open, raw and bare.

A late night phone call

My father had died.

Right then.

A moment earlier, he was himself

Old and tired, but alive

in the world

And then he was not.

Hold tight.

I closed the book.

Stared into the yellow eyes of the hawk in front of me.

Was that anger, or fear?

A lifetime, then, oh,

The great unknown.

I look down again, and the boy that was my father is gone.

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About katemccarrollmoore

Kate Moore’s passion is literacy, and she serves as a mentor teacher and staff developer throughout the greater Bay Area. Kate served three terms as the City of San Ramon's Poet Laureate (2012-2018); she also teaches poetry writing workshops for children and adults. Kate holds a Doctorate in Educational Leadership for Social Justice from California State University, East Bay, an M.A. in Teacher Leadership from St. Mary’s and a B.A. in English Education from SUNY Albany. She and Bob Moore are the proud parents of four beautiful grown daughters, and the smitten grandparents of eight beautiful children who fill them with hope for the future.
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2 Responses to Grief

  1. Bob's avatar Bob says:

    Beautiful. Like you!

  2. Maren's avatar Maren says:

    Kathy, this is so touching, particularly given that you were reading a memoir on a woman dealing with her father’s death…your flow of words, the way you have placed them, really are beautiful. Hugs.

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