The Last Present
Before he died
He bought and wrapped
This present
It sits in my cupboard
The snowmen have
Waved many summers
Away now
And still
I can not
Bring myself
To unwrap
This last present.
She told me this
And I did not laugh
Did not entice
Her to unwrap
But wished that
I too had
A last present
To cherish
And not unwrap
Two decades later
I reached into
The cupboard
That holds
Only memories
And found
Eighteen years
Left unwrapped
And started
To peep
Till two years dropped
And now I pull
At the paper
Of the sixteen.
And wonder
If one day
I wish
I hadn’t.
* Sonia Jarema says “I am an allotmenteer living on the edge of London, finally letting the air get to my writing.”
Fabulous.
Heartrending but fabulous.
thanks for your lovely comment.
Go on – keep unwrapping! I love it!!!
Perri.
I love this poem. It is poignant and moving and captures succinctly the complexity of loss.
Poignant and insightful. Keep growing I know you have so much more to say.
Ang. x
Great poem Son,keep up the great work!
Julie xxx