Dreaming on A Couch

An ode to the missing Couch

The garage has more room now,
and now, you have no place to rest
your weary soul.
furniture-less.
No place for us to sit.
awaiting a fragile loss
you revel how young we look
but truly your eyes are just older
The fire of grief, starting to smolder
flowered cushions gone as fast as you were
taken from me while asleep
awoken to hear the morbid news.
not to surprise me, instead of breakfast: blues
I still try to remember,
the dream you drifted into,
on way to your couch in heaven.
-author: Solomon Botwick-Ries, age 15