Robin | Steve Denehan

For four decades death was a stranger to me.
I empathised, I offered my shoulder but I did not really know death.
Then, this year, death came.
An uncle, an aunt, another aunt, a friend.
Death came, they left.
The clink of tea cups and teary smiles.
Cold and waxy sunken cheeks.
“No more pain now Dad”, my daughter tells me with her smiling, bun-filled mouth.
She is four years old.
She is right.