Bluebird by Ed Galing



we often talked
about death
my wife and i
we were married
sixty eight years
and now we were
settled down to old age
my wife often said
if she died first she would
come back to me,
and i laughed and said,
oh, if only it was true,
but nobody ever comes back,
when she passed away
five years later
i was broken hearted,
each day i missed her more,
then one morning
in the kitchen, on
the window sill,
the bluebird appeared,
a pretty bird with blue feathers,
jumping around from one end to the other,
fluffing her wings, parading,
then tapping on the pane,
before she flew away,
i watched the bird with amazement
and remembered what my dear wife
had once said,
my eyes filled with tears
as i murmured,
thanks for coming, honey
come again

Poem taken from Big Hammer No. 15 published by Iniquity Press/Vendetta Books

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