So beautifully sad. I hate open caskets. I love the way you paint the picture in stark details, internal wonderings, and brutally honest assessments - "the stink of them." Painful and real.
Oh, heartbreaking and gorgeous. The man is so present in the memory you evoke, the man with the smile we don't see in this room. The details of the poem are wonderful, excruciating, honest, real. The pins, the stink. Yes! Wow!
My cousin and I have this shared connection, know our fathers and the trauma they caused, and understand one another. Your simple, lovely poem describes the feeling well.
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