My Dad passed suddenly, and I am desperately trying not to make it about me.


No measure.

Your time isn't measured, Dad.
Keep it there. Distance yourself if you need;
For every step seems oversized
And impossible to answer.
But although my heart continues to bleed
On a page thrown,
There isn't any need or reason known.

Dad, your time isn't measured.
And that's OK. Turn away if you need;
It's just you made shadows so dark
That I am continually chasing.
I will live through the love and the deed
Of those you held deer,
There isn't any doubt; there is no fear.

Your time, Dad, isn't measured.
I know this now. Keep making a man of me;
You drew that straight line
And I traced it as best as I could.
I reckon the act of living precariously
Through my family,
Is as it should; and how it should be.



Poetry by John Ashleigh The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 14 times
Written on 2026-09-03 at 23:33

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arquious The PoetBay support member heart!
That being without measure touches deeply, having Dad pass away four years now seems like yesterday and at times seems like he is still alive somewhere doing his daily things. And the tightrope is it is as much about us as it isn't. I sense the oneness of two souls here and well honoured as well. Mayhap grief shall turn out another vehicle on this new journey in this unmeasurable relationship. Pease, brother. 🙏🏻🕊️
2026-09-04


Griffonner The PoetBay support member heart!
Nice to read your work... we are both PoetBay elders now (by when we first joined, aren't we.)
I am so sorry for your loss. I'm 83 and my dad passed in 1979. I think about him loads, and his passing can still bring tears. My mother lived to 95, and died in 2017. She was a widow for longer than she was married to him! I am still coming to terms with their parenting, our little family group etc., all these years later.
I do understand your heartfelt poem, and writing about it is definitely cathartic and helps greatly. Well written. Blessings and brotherly love, Allen
2026-09-03