The autumn colors flown from the trees
assaulted by the frigid  breeze
though we were
sheltered in the lea.
As an eagle soared high
in the clear cerulean sky
we lay my father
gently in the ground.
In the sweet earth
on  which he had toiled
for so long.

He was our father
he was our friend,
and with our tears
sprinkled in the golden grass,
we lay the quiet words
and sparkling  eyes’
the laughing voice
and gentle hands,
we lay the heart
that loves us still
gently in the ground.

My father, probably the kindest man I ever met, died on November 13, 2017 at the age of almost 98.  His funeral was held just over a week later, on a clear cold day.  1 Corinthians 13 says that “love never ceases” and I believe that.  He was a good father.   I miss him.