Tom Lathara

Chicago, Illinois, USA
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The shadows lingered,
He knelt, arms out, palms upwards,
his unshaved face earnest
In deep anguish, eyes welling up.

As if pulled by unseen strands,
He gently bent to the ground,
Outstretched hands, palms touching the grass,
His forehead kissing the soft earth

In abject supplication
A labored prayer left his lips
‘Lord, My child’.., rest of the muffled cries
Mingled with his tears rolled down.

Time stood still, woods reverent,
birds held their chirping
Shadows swallowed the light
Evening breeze like an intense sigh

The heavens and earth allied
to comfort the distraught father,
‘In peace, Go, Your child is whole’
Whispered the wind, drying his tears.


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