when a parent dies
the strangest things
become unexpected
reminders, even
monuments to a memory
of a professional
who became a person
every bit as real
   as you
are only remembering
missing much that
once seemed filled

why go to bed
with so much ahead
things needing done
thoughts always wrong
and people chattering away
on the other side of the world

but one thing is clear
the beans always near
on the other side of dream
awaiting to please
if we just lay down
our heads and get there