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Array
(
[sid] => 10798
[catid] => 1
[aid] => Mick
[title] => This morning, in the shower
[time] => 2003-01-20 10:00:00
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Each morning I wake to the certainty of your absence,
The grief still too fresh to make art of it . So, one foot in front of the other leads me through routine, and I carry on, somehow. Someone once told me that love poems were for children - I don't feel like a child anymore. Today as the water hit me I remembered you in the hospital bed: eyes sightless, gasping for air, arms reaching out to say good-bye - I miss you, Dad. [comments] => 3 [counter] => 156 [topic] => 32 [informant] => callisto [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => SadPoetry )
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