While composing the letter to my daughters that appears elsewhere on, I had some ideas that I felt were more elegantly expressed in verse than prose.


I mourned for my father
When he died so long ago.
I grieved as he slipped
Through the fingers of memory.

He is with me still, though.
As I glance in the mirror
I see him looking back,
A half smile on his face.

I hear him speak through me,
His words and phrases on my lips.
I feel him looking through my eyes
At a world long lost to him.

Although your memories
Of me will blur and fade as well.
You won’t be done with me,
Nor I with you.

I will be there in your words
And in stories you tell over wine.
I, too, will hide behind the mirror
To slip unbidden into your reflection.

1 thought on “Bequest”

  1. I’m so happy you posted this poem. Lines from it stayed with me after you read it at the writers’ forum a couple of weeks ago. I’m so happy to be able to read it to my husband. It moves me with each reading.


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