A Poem For My Dad

Can I get a witness?
Dec. 20th 2005
Charlotte Reeves Bowman

So you need a witness?
Heaven’s horns blowing,
hell’s dogs howling,
the winds of purgatory have given up on your resurrection.

The bread is broken,
the blood all spilt.
Nothing left but caskets-or ashes
and never-ending needs.
Has it all come to this?
No home,
no hope,
no clean clothes…
just another wayward soul looking haunted and old.

You have left some accidental good pieces of yourself somewhere….
Maybe your grandson will get you wit,
or your granddaughter will have your big heart.

So you want a witness?
To what I ask?
Your surrender?
Your last swig of self destruction?
I’m afraid I’m only available for the living,
there are no vacancies in this haunted house.
All my haints are well feed and have no need to roam.

So I will be your witness….
when you are ready to put an end to your living death.
I will throw your homecoming party
one where we dance, laugh
and try to heal thirty five years worth of wounds.

Until then my sweet dear father….I wait for good news.