Melody’s
End
It
was like one of those scrolls of
tinkling music on a player piano or
the
tape on a recording machine
nearing
its end. My brother who
lie
terminally ill in hospital two
hundred
fifty miles away returned
my
phone call the other day. I under-
stood
the news of his condition would
not
be good. He coughed desperately,
gasping
for breath with each word he
struggled
to express. And he told me
that
he had to say goodbye for he
knew
his time was near. There are no
new
scrolls to be found, no more tapes
of
him to somehow rewind. In their place
only
my grieving remains, and a longing
to
hear the music of his voice once again
in
my ear.
Chris
Hanch 1-24-19
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