Lit Up | Poetry

IT IS NO TIME

“Farewell, thou child of my right hand, and joy; My sin was too much hope of thee, lov’d boy.”
‘On my first Sonne,’ Ben Jonson, 1603

Photo by Benjamin Davies on Unsplash

It is no time
since we said goodbye
my son and I
his silent goodbye
‘neath the darkening sky.

His blue, blue eye,
as time passes by,
is with me alway,
as night follows day.

Ashes that drift
and silt in my head
I know he is dead
he is dead
he is dead.

It is no time
since we said goodbye
my son and I
his silent goodbye
‘neath the darkening sky.