Angela Bacon-Kidwell
Home by Nightfall Silence ceased for him in 2011 not a whisper, but a relentless roaring thunder molding his spirit into mourning In his misery, a new vaporous malice was brewing the ringing was a warning tinnitus and cancer were converging Every known eradication was pursued He and I, separated...
Home by Nightfall
Silence ceased for him in 2011
not a whisper, but a relentless roaring thunder
molding his spirit into mourning
In his misery, a new vaporous malice was brewing
the ringing was a warning
tinnitus and cancer were converging
Every known eradication was pursued
He and I, separated by many miles,
shared a need for solitude
cultivated by lucid country drives
We drove separately through the dark districts of our minds
invariably contemplating what was to come,
a symbiotic transitory landscape emerged
and the thunder soared in 2013
Questions, Answers, Questions, Answers
Questions, Answers, Questions, Answers
Questions, Answers, Questions, Answers
all tedious throbbing answers
How many miles in a life?
What shape is the color grey?
When does an echo become whole?
During the three years of relentless discord,
I created seventy images of these ambiguous queries
emoting, sensing, seeking
There is a truth in "big" questions with small answers
Clarity in the midst of chaos
Hope in the face of despair
Silence returned for him on May 24, 2014
He was my father
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thy hands have made
this I pursue
chasing hope
a broken hallelujah
drifting grey
late December
on a dust kissed drive
a murmur of wholeness
till the moment it's gone
a faithful surrender