It had been a long passing away. <br />A death that crackles the hardest stone, <br />He sank into the bed of this bay, <br />A death silent and alone. <br /> <br />He once frolicked through the sleepy field <br />Waking the insects on the grass. <br />Bare-foot, to the seashore yield <br />To dance with a moonlit lass. <br /> <br />He was my child, my dear, <br />Who never let it pass him by, <br />Always sat at the edge of that pier, <br />Watching the Samurai sunset sky. <br /> <br />Now I stand here over his grave, <br />Now realising he is dead. <br />And there are fireflies over the wave, <br />Spelling a poem left unsaid. <br /> <br />They wait for him, <br />Forever, <br />Thinking he's just asleep, <br />Waiting, waiting, <br />Thinking, <br />Soon, <br />He'll rise <br />From the ocean deep.<br /><br />K. Jared Hosein<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/loss-the-grave-of-my-child/
