Sunday, April 24, 2016

NaWriPoMo - Day 18. A poem in the language of home... Sssssssh - your father

Sssssssssh – your father…

"Ssssssh your father..."
is getting ready for dinner
Ssssssh your father....
is eating at the table ...
silverware clinks, quiet
gulp of cool water
swallowed – he breathes
"Ssssssh your father ....
is going to the living room
to relax ...I follow and...
sit ...there next to this king
this raven haired young 
man as he placed ruby
records on the player –
and there – sitting next
to him … music crashed
shook the walls and
my small chest as I leaned
against the solid wall of
him and he cradled me
with an arm and I smiled

sssssh to them all….

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