Twilight Stories

He would go ranting, 

I walked listening,

My stories were fillers 

To his, in between the babbling

Yet, I loved it so

Waking up to a handsome face 

That of my only son, 

I never thought it a privilege

Until he is gone 

With a promise to not return

His warmth, his laughter, 

His silence, his maunder,

Bind my heart to his

Twilight stories after sunset

Wherever he is

What’s to be of the 

Conventions, traditions, rituals, 

When the reality that 

Glued two humans 

And warmed my heart 

Have now disappeared…