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Uncle Dave

by David Maurice

You died with a look I never saw
You died with a book I never read
left on your end-table, past glories
and mornings left to dust over in the
ever settings of a sun black and covering,
moons covered, you were my best friend
I never called, we were both of the old book,
When a person is around and a letter
has to be agonized over because there
is no resend.


Author's Note: My Uncle just died. I was told in a grocery store. When I got home, I found I had bought dog food, and I own a cat.

Posted on 10/29/2011
Copyright © 2021 David Maurice

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 01/07/12 at 12:34 AM

Excellent poetic capture of mourning Dave, without coming right out and saying it. I can so relate man with unfortunately too many.

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