The number forty four.
Calling to me
through the years,
a companion
a reminder,
a reluctant milestone.
A day to come, for me.
One not reached, for you.
The number forty four.
And, I have now been given
more years than you,
and I wonder what you’d think now
and I wonder if we’d chat now
with the ease of adults, now
that the awkwardness of youth
has left me.
I wonder if I’d know you,
I wonder how I’d know you.
Me at forty four,
and you at sixty eight.
But, I have now been given
more days than you,
and I wonder how that’s fair
and I wonder how that’s right
with so much still to come, and
memories still to make
and cherish.
I wonder what we’d say,
I wonder what we’d think.
Me at forty four,
and you at sixty eight.
The number forty four.
Calling to me
across the years,
an echo
a whisper,
a line now crossed.
A day now passed, for me.
One not reached, for you.
The number forty four.
© Sara Murray, 15 September 2017
For my father
Beautiful words Sara. I’m so sorry you lost them x
Thank you Tas x
Wow, Sarah – what a beautiful poem! In tears here. X
Correction. Sara not Sarah. Just woke up lol X
Very moving. It must feel very strange
Holding back the tears. So sad you lost him so young. Hope you have many happy memories to keep his love alive.
A beautiful poem Sara, it left me feeling rather emotional.
Oh Sara, this is just so beautiful it gave me goosebumps reading it. I’m sorry fro your loss x
Lovely way to remember him. Connected always x
What wonderful words! Such a touching poem. <<>>
where has the word hugs disappeared to? anyway Judy imagine there being a few of these hug emojis lounging about!