Get my App
Link to Me
Save the badge above and link to www://kennamckinnonauthor.com/
Most Popular Posts
-
A Lovecraftian short story I wrote. Enjoy, folks, and don't forget the comments! I also would like the opportunity to publish it! ...
-
My debut novel SPACEHIVE is now out in print as well as ebook. It's available on Amazon.com in ebook and print, and CreateSpace in print...
-
It is my pleasure to welcome author Mari Collier to my blog today. We’ll start out with a few questions. If you choose not to a...
-
Inspired and Committed Author Gets the Job Done ASCENDING , a new novella, is on pre-release on Amazon. I'm really excited about ...
-
What happened to the frog's car when his parking meter expired? It got toad!! What do you call a frog that crosses the road, jumps...
-
.jpg)
Comment of the day by Eileen Schuh : Photo of Eileen FROM Memories of Mother Missing our loved ones I'm missing my Mom today... -
This book is called The Insanity Machine because in 1978 Kenna McKinnon chatted with another inmate in the old 5C forensic psychiatr... -
A vote: SpaceHive, Space Hive, SPACEHIVE? You'll note there's a new title for my book, and I've chosen SpaceHive. Consultation w...
-
Our "Name the Book" Contest ends soon. Thanks to Val, Bob, Moo, and Judi for entering and each winning a $5.00 Amazon.com gift ca...
-
Today we're presenting an interview with the inimitable Kerry Watts. Kerry Watts Kenna: Hello, Kerry. Welcome to my site. Pleas...
Featured on Buck Books
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
DO NOT STAND AT MY GRAVE AND WEEP
Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow;
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain;
I am the gentle autumn's rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush;
of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft star that shines at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there; I did not die.
~Author Unknown~
My Son
by Kenna McKinnon
He stands bearded in a striped shirt
with his arms around his mother on the cover of a book.
He's someone's son, not mine, but
my son once
bought the book and gave it to me
Without inscription or comment but
I have this book in front of me
like emails or like phone calls like a visit
Infrequent looming at my door with…
what? the day behind him or in front the night?
Many years the small
child in a turquoise suit I placed upon the floor
To wait as adults more important;
Yes, the years of forests
Now he is the tallest of the trees.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments
(Atom)
Beautiful, Kenna. Thanks for sharing with us.---
ReplyDeleteYou're welcome, Judi, and thanks for the comment. Steve liked blues and Eric Clapton, BB King, TJ Hooker, etc. and played the guitar very well himself. He would have enjoyed that video and who knows, perhaps he listened to it.
ReplyDeleteI shared with Steve the poem I wrote about a year or two ago, when I first wrote it. He never saw the anonymous poem, although he might have, because I also chose that one to be read at my own memorial, when it comes. Now the time of mourning and the tough day is passed, and life is for the living, as Steve would have agreed, and as my father always said, and they both (all) live in our hearts. We must pick up the torch and go on, living as best we can, and honor those who are gone but not forgotten.
ReplyDelete