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And My Father Pt.2 - a poem regarding grief

  • zenaedwardsis
  • Feb 14
  • 1 min read

January 8th. My flight to Chicago is cancelled. I am not happy about it as I was looking forward to seeing the man I have wanted to see since I was 11 weeks old again. Unfortunately, it will be his gravestone. But this is the second time I am looking for him.

My Father's body rests in a military based graveyard, among the hundreds of wreaths lain for the graves of those who might not get a visit and whom the officers who maintain the site dont' want to feel left out.




It is a strange time and feeling, reading the roman chiselled lettering on white marble, seeing the brightness of the snow flecked with pine needles... 🕊️


~ Z ~


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