My Uncle Alvin passed away when I was in elementary school. I will never forget my father’s sorrow. I wrote about his sorrow in my eleventh grade creative writing class. I transcribed the poem in its original form below. On a lighter note, oh how my writing could have benefited from a few commas and semicolons.
In memory of Alvin Herbold. My father’s brother and mentor –
A Single Drop of Water
A single drop of water,
not much compared to
an ocean, or lake,
a river, or stream,
a pond, or even a puddle.
There is something fascinating
about a drop of water.
It can just be a part
of a great ocean,
an unnoticed part,
a part that is made
unimportant by the millions
surrounding it.
Or it can be that
single tear drop
on my father’s face
when his brother died.
The strong man I know,
filled with sorrow.