4:20 AM
by Michael G. O'Connell
The night was cool
when I walked up the steps to your room.
It took me years to do it,
but I finally got the nerve to hold your hand.
It was something that I had to do.
Having only recently gotten comfortable
with telling you that I loved you.
Up until a few months ago,
it was unspoken, but I always knew.
You did, too.
I could see it in your blue eyes--
blue like the sky and every bit as deep as the ocean.
As I took your hand in the darkness,
I could feel your heart beating with mine.
Slow and steady.
Time seemed to stop and
part of me--the selfish part--
wanted to hold on to that moment forever.
Hold on and
never let go.
Your hand, there in the dark,
was so soft and delicate
but too warm for December.
No words were necessary
as there was nothing and everything left to say.
I had to close my eyes and join you in that darkness
and let memories of the times we shared
together flood over me.
I wondered why this moment
had taken so long to arrive.
Was it only yesterday that I picked you up
and carried you through the door?
And put you in bed?
Or was it a week ago?
Time slips in times like these.
An uneasy peace settles in
before Night covers us in darkness
and play its tricks.
So I held onto your hand, this one last time.
I had to. I needed your strength,
and I knew you could hold this reality together.
You were always the strong and sensible one,
the magical one, who could do anything
by sheer will alone.
Eyes closed, I embraced the darkness.
I clung to you and let the minutes to slip away.
And there in my hand I held your beating heart.
It should have filled me with anticipation and dread.
Instead, it suffused me with the courage to walk away,
and the peace to know it was time
to leave you there with your true love,
this one last time.
when I walked up the steps to your room.
It took me years to do it,
but I finally got the nerve to hold your hand.
It was something that I had to do.
Having only recently gotten comfortable
with telling you that I loved you.
Up until a few months ago,
it was unspoken, but I always knew.
You did, too.
I could see it in your blue eyes--
blue like the sky and every bit as deep as the ocean.
As I took your hand in the darkness,
I could feel your heart beating with mine.
Slow and steady.
Time seemed to stop and
part of me--the selfish part--
wanted to hold on to that moment forever.
Hold on and
never let go.
Your hand, there in the dark,
was so soft and delicate
but too warm for December.
No words were necessary
as there was nothing and everything left to say.
I had to close my eyes and join you in that darkness
and let memories of the times we shared
together flood over me.
I wondered why this moment
had taken so long to arrive.
Was it only yesterday that I picked you up
and carried you through the door?
And put you in bed?
Or was it a week ago?
Time slips in times like these.
An uneasy peace settles in
before Night covers us in darkness
and play its tricks.
So I held onto your hand, this one last time.
I had to. I needed your strength,
and I knew you could hold this reality together.
You were always the strong and sensible one,
the magical one, who could do anything
by sheer will alone.
Eyes closed, I embraced the darkness.
I clung to you and let the minutes to slip away.
And there in my hand I held your beating heart.
It should have filled me with anticipation and dread.
Instead, it suffused me with the courage to walk away,
and the peace to know it was time
to leave you there with your true love,
this one last time.
Michael G. O’Connell, a Jacksonville native, is an author, illustrator, and award-winning poet. His work has appeared in various formats worldwide. His latest work can be found in the poetry anthology, Moss Gossamer. He is currently working on an illustrated middle-grade book and illustrating his wife’s children’s book.