I stood nigh a familiar man
whom I keep in heart and mind yet still.
This day was not his plan,
as he lies in a bed with not one frill.
Only a single year before he walked about
with no insight of such a dreary fate.
My heart is sunk with his wheezy breaths
and I hold his hand so frail and delicate.
I feel his hand clasp mine from the darkening depths.
The reluctant breaths give way to feverish gasps,
his grip a breaking vise.
Death's assertive knock is too much for the hasps
of Life. He insists not twice.
My beloved father is passing by;
he has reached the cusp of earthly time.
I hit my knees and start to cry, “Why?”
I did not arrive and say, “I love you!” in time.