Skip to content
October 7, 2015 / ldejong4

Four Months Later

I waited for the robin

to land on my palm

like it did on yours

and sing the words

I longed to write since your death.

I waited for the skies to open,

for the stars to speak

and the autumn leaves

to paint some sort of heaven on earth

with you in my verse.

Nothing came,

but waves of sorrow

sweeping the weight of my bones

down into the ground.

Until one Sunday evening

in the supermarket,

I saw you.

Standing there; the special’s shelf

at the edge of the aisle.

The height of you.

The width of you.

McVitie’s Digestives

Jacob’s Fig Rolls

and Rich Tea.

The ones you’d bring

with the paper

on your walks from Delgany village.

I wanted all of them.

I wanted all of you.

But the ghost of you

whispering behind me

like you did once before:

You’re sweet enough.


My grief for you is a beautiful thing.


(In memory of my grandfather)



Leave a Comment
  1. Leo / Oct 7 2015 5:47 pm

    Beautiful. With tears in my eyes the moment I realised for whom you wrote this for.

    • ldejong4 / Oct 7 2015 5:50 pm

      Thanks Lady Leo. I miss him.

  2. Shane / Oct 7 2015 5:51 pm

    Very beautiful, Lisa.

    I’m sorry for your loss.


  3. ldejong4 / Oct 7 2015 5:53 pm

    Thanks Shane. In memory of my grandfather. Maybe I should write that somewhere…

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: