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joe-thompsonPoems
I watch men I do not know. How they smile, twitch, scratch- how the ***** steel bristles cut through their cheeks and chins; their tatoos dull blue and grey on sweat washed arms. How they rub their hands, push back their hair, adjust their collars, breath, laugh, belch. I am looking for someone I never knew. I am looking for my father. If he were near, I could not let him pass by unseen, unfelt. Meeting him, I do not know what I would say. hello or do you know me? Maybe I would say nothing. Maybe I would just sit and stare, like a soldier, seeing his own arm ****** and torn in the road, wondering why the fingers don't move when he tries to make a fist.
0
Jun 20, 2018
Jun 20, 2018 at 7:24 PM UTC
To my father
I watch men I do not know. How they smile, twitch, scratch- how the ***** steel bristles cut through their cheeks and chins; their tatoos dull blue and grey on sweat washed arms. How they rub their hands, push back their hair, adjust their collars, breath, laugh, belch. I am looking for someone I never knew. I am looking for my father. If he were near, I could not let him pass by unseen, unfelt. Meeting him, I do not know what I would say. hello or do you know me? Maybe I would say nothing. Maybe I would just sit and stare, like a soldier, seeing his own arm ****** and torn in the road, wondering why the fingers don't move when he tries to make a fist.
#father#absent#dad#pain
Written by
joe-thompson
American
Jun 20, 2018
Jun 20, 2018 at 7:24 PM UTC
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