Visiting Daddy

    By Stacey Dye

I sit, knees to chest,

next to the brown marble slab

that speaks of you.

Bronze cats tumble playfully on your grave.

I feel you here.

Caught in one of our wordless moments,

you would hug me

and all was translated.

I run my fingers over the letters

carved in South Dakota stone

and we’re together again.

The two of us in conversation.

Me doing most of the talking –

you, listening.

My heart stings when I tell you

the days have lost their luster.

Although each is a diamond in the rough,

their beauty escapes me

with you not in them.

My eyes well up as the sun blinds me.

It’s time to go.

I kiss my fingers

reach out for your name –

imagine my lips touching your cheek.

© 2011 Stacey Dye

Stacey Dye began to seriously pursue the art of poetry about five years ago.  Her favorite subject is the human condition. Publishing credits include Mused, Camroc Press Review, Flutter Poetry Journal, BluePrintReview, and MagnaPoets among others.  She is a previous contributor to Touch: The Journal of Healing.  Her poetry and musings can be found on her blog.