It has been one month since my dad sadly passed away in his nursing home due to complications with his advanced progressive multiple sclerosis on Tuesday 7th April 2020. It has not been an easy month. However, I want to share with you a piece of poetry called 'Dust'.
‘Dust’ was written in January 2020. Although it was originally about the war especially 'Victory in Europe Day’, which will be celebrated again on Friday 8th May 2020, it can now also be viewed in terms of the war against the Coronavirus pandemic. The poem also reflects on my dad, so this piece can be seen as small tribute to him.
The sky cries dust everyday
Thick dust from the clouds above
They are saying on the radio to keep indoors
I hold onto my dad’s hand, barely lifeless, as the dust pours
I close my eyes and hear the screams of those fighting
Fighting on the dark battlefield without any lighting
And hope one day they can return home safely
Until then I keep hold of my dad’s fragile hand
Months of dust, and rain, and smoke last, but it eventually passes
And they are shouting on the radio, ‘Victory’, ‘Victory’
But inside our room the thick dust rages on as I let go of my dad’s hand
The fighting is over, but my dad has lost his war.
|I let go of my dad's hand...Copyright © 2020 Desmon Sndy Project. All rights reserved.|