DEATH Poem: On the Day You Passed, by Christopher Menezes

We were eating breakfast
at the hotel when dad got the call.
Rushed to the hospital,
opened the door to your room,
found your body on the bed.

Dad collapsed on top of you,
wailing from deep inside himself,
for you, his father, a sound
I’d never heard before.
It turned the Earth upside down,
like it was trying to keep the sun from going down

Full of life the day before, you woke,
asked the nurse for a bottle of wine
and a glass for me.
She shook her head.
You tried your best to laugh,
grinned and winked at me.

It’s that wailing that keeps me up tonight,
sitting at my desk, drinking
from a bottle of wine
staring at your picture,
wanting it all back—

The Christmas eves at your house,
on the carpet, your back against the couch,
I’m sitting next to you,
you ask if I love you like a dog or like a puppy,
your laughter booms across the room,
when I say both. You squeeze my shoulder,
say I love you with such a tenderness
it brings me to tears remembering the sound.
I can still hear the sound.