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Tag Archives: Every Man Jack
Vignette, March 11, 2022
Ray, rocking that goofy hat again, the one that hangs over my bed now; it’s just two days before our world will turn upside down in a Ventura ER. I imagine how he might have been nudging me on, resisting … Continue reading
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Tagged Every Man Jack, Grief Loss and Bereavement, Jack A. Urquhart, spousal loss
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Tune My Heart
For Dillon: On the occasion of what would’ve been his 44th Birthday by Jack A. Urquhart, Copyright 2023 Occasionally, two or three times a year,I tune my heart to the memory of your faceto the sound of your voice, to … Continue reading
For Dillon: A Birthday Rumination from Dad
03.08.2022 I admit it, Kiddo. I’m not as sharp as I used to be, and neither are my memories of you. The effect of advancing age, I expect — and stubborn self-protection. That said, a few things still cut close … Continue reading
Seattle, February 2011 (for Dillon, 03.08.1979 — 08.02.2013)
How was I to know then—in the shadow of that red lacquered library, in that misting rain? How was I to know as you sprinted Spring Street that you would never come back to me again— not the onery, flesh … Continue reading
Penitence, a prose poem by @EvryManJac
©2017 by Jack A. Urquhart Just so you know: I have my regrets. Doesn’t everybody? And yes, I am sorry— sorry for the grief I’ve caused. That, in a nutshell, is the story … Continue reading
An American’s Parisian Dream @EvryManJac
Copyright 2016 by Jack A. Urquhart Paris, winter, 2016. We are here in the French capital again, my spouse Raymond and I, visiting dear friends for most of the month. Ray, who has an extensive history of European travel to his … Continue reading
Residue: a prose poem, @EvryManJac
©2016 by Jack A. Urquhart (for D.T.U.) He wears loss ‘round his neck— scintilla of ashes, bone, dust— a steely, encapsulating talisman, storied against his heart. His fingers oil the patina to a shade of smoky-gray. This grief is a … Continue reading
Mixed Metaphors (prose poem)
©2016 by Jack A. Urquhart For Dillon 03.08.1979—08.02.2013 They say being alive is a concatenation of scenes, the sum of which equals a singular human performance. So it is no surprise that since … Continue reading
Last Words: A Marriage Memory (prose poem)
©2016 by Jack A. Urquhart I’m through talking to you, she said, in her best aggrieved spousal tone—this before launching a litany of worst-case marital woes. Quite a list it was, and accurate; something … Continue reading
Every Man Jack ... 