Three years have passed
since his deathday.
I feel nothing,
as if the horrific
event never
happened.

Some other family
standing around.
Him on oxygen,
not saying much.

The baby looking
worried.
The grand-niece
in her gum-boots.

Me, chatting up
a storm.
Other patients
in worse shape
than him.

Some still alive.
Some not.

Tuesday’s his birthday.
I’m not missing
his deathday.
But I will miss
his birthday.
once again.