Death: A Poem

Death

Still, quiet and humbling. Death reminds you that silence is the all-encompassing noise, as it helps you feel the gravity of the spinning earth beneath your feet.


Pictured: my uncle Jr. (left) and his brother, my dad (right)


RIP to my uncle Bob, whom my hillbilly family called, uncle Junior.

I will miss your chuckle, our ghost stories, your cooking, the way you call everyone "bubba" or "kiddo," and above all, your warmth.

You were so warm.


10/8/44 - 3/3/21

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