POEM AT 30

Hello September,

You have always been the month that awakens my soil
Your pattern has been super beautiful.
See, you gifted me a partner exactly a week before you bore me
Such a jubilant pattern I must observe!
But why did you allow a blot into this decoration?

Dad bowed out a week after you began

In this beautiful month, I got the most painful sting
The storm of grief is still striking
I’ve no word to describe my emotions yet
I hear they call it a whirlwind.

Some days have been hard and others have been fine
In this month I’ve lived “a minute at a time.”
I’m glad you are coming to an end
Those were minutes too many

But you see, my birthday comes at your end,
One I’ve waited for 29 years

Should I celebrate you?

I will put on that dress
I will show up for the party,
I will hail you
For the lives you borne and for the life you took.
I’m totally consoled by Terry Pratchett’s question:
“Do you not know that a man is not dead while his name is still spoken?”

Long live September! Long live dad!

Happy 30th Karimi.