Wheelchair Blues

It was a passing look
But a broken heart
Cannot stay in pieces for long
So I looked back
Like I once had
Just to remember

Her hands were nervous
And her body nearly silent
Yet she looked at me
Liked I once had
Just to discover

She was still a child
In a wheelchair where
Sunset years find their secret calm
And the injured timely respite

She was still a child
And her wheelchair was now part
Of her body nearly silent
As if to let her be her own space
Where once I found myself
And shared it too

It was a passing look
But I stayed for a while
I had a story to tell
Like I had told it once
When her body was silent
And her smile had relaxed

My broken heart had stayed
Broken for the space secretly
Kept empty in await for
A new look, but as simple
As the one I had seen once
When I was not ready

To discover
To find myself
Or for one day
To remember

November 19, 2016
© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2016


On the plane to Europe during the Thanksgiving holidays, memories of our daughter still haunted me for the entire trans-Atlantic passage. Eleven years since her death and the emptiness she left has been filled only by my memories of her.