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Weekly Contest #127
There was the pond and there was I, the floating inbetween- the two legged stance in motion, tending my heart-my father, and a drowning memory. At any given moment I could be upended by Dad's passing; as he was passing, ever so slow, limboing amid oxygen and angst. Death represented itself in the water and in the waiting and all I could do was breathe, in a purgatory complete with well fed catfish rolling in the shallows. I had realized after a conversation with Dad only a month earlier- that he was in need of great love. That he was perhap...
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