This house
once filled by
a family of seven
has become a tomb
for one.
If they return
things will be different.
If he finds them
he will be the husband
and father
they need.
Taking another chug
from the bottle of whiskey
his world becomes
a little darker,
a little warmer.
He knows
what he needs to do...
but how to do it?
He takes another bulb
from it's snowman covered box
and gives it a good toss
straight up
suspending it in mid-air
for as long as possible
before it hits
the cold cement floor
with a hypnotizing ''POP''.
Watching the tiny fragments
scatter across the floor
he sees himself
alone again
and thanks God
that they left the Christmas decorations...
his only way to
break the silence.
Dedicated to my dad.
Mary Nagy
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/breaking-the-silence-3/
