Beyond the Art
Dad only had a month to live.
I peeked in to tell them goodnight.
Mom was painting. She stopped to give
Me a kiss. 'Your Dad will be all right.'
Next morning, both my folks were gone.
Perhaps they went out for some air.
Mom's new painting was sitting on
Its easel. Mom's class touch was there.
Mom's grace, Dad's strength - what a combo,
For forty years, husband and wife.
I touched the canvas. Where'd they go?
And then the painting came to life.
A couple walked along the sea.
Mom and Dad smiled and waved to me.
poem by Ima Ryma
Added by Poetry Lover
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