Passages
Last Sailing
written by: Gerry Stefanson
@gerry_stefanson
you were the static on the phone
when claiming mother.
you poked me
on the lift to father’s door.
Confirming your work.
night sister slipped
you were the ice under my feet,
you wrote the silence
when our son melted.
Cold as ice.
you place distraction
when aunts and uncles fell.
you were the pause in
voice that stole hope.
Tear in our eye.
We will meet, I will know you.
Reef/Grief to my Passage.
NOTE:
Passages series photography by Kumiko Hawkes – Shizen Photography
MAY 2022 AUTHOR OF THE MONTH at Spillwords Press
Born and raised on the prairies of Manitoba Canada, along the Red River and just south of Lake Winnipeg. Then Alberta and ten years in the Rockies, just above Montana. The last decade in the Canadian Gulf Islands. People, ideas and stories set the stage of my poetry and writing. Music and art fill my days and verse fills my head. I feel the fortunate one and share this world with my life partner.
Latest posts by Gerry Stefanson (see all)
- Last Sailing - May 8, 2024
- Always Find a Safe Harbour - April 17, 2024
- Passing On - February 28, 2024
