It was six in the morning.
That morning our minister made
his final prayer at Michael’s bedside.
As he lie there covered
and as quiet as the night.
The night sickness took him from us,
like a thief.
We, the family,
were left broken hearted,
and in dispair
as we payed our respects.
Like little children we were.
Like little children,
looking for hidden questions.
As the undertakers
took him out of the house.
As I wipe my tears gently with disbelief,
I wonder how this could have happened
so suddenly.