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FrancescaReganPoems
A small boy with dark eyes grew to dream, and invent. Toys for the children of the world, and for us, your own. What began as a limp took over your whole body, robbing the light inside you. Before it did, one winter evening, you taught me to ice skate. Around and around we went, on the small circle of our frozen swimming pool. My mother called us in for dinner. Usually obedient, I pretended not to hear. Something told my young heart that this would never happen again. Around and around we went, father and daughter. You gave us your native land, and your vision that invention could create a life. The last time I saw you, it was to feed you a favorite dish. As I turned back   from the open door, your eyes met mine. A steady, direct unfamiliar look. It was good-bye. There was nothing left unfinished between us.
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Sep 1, 2015
Sep 1, 2015 at 4:02 PM UTC
For My Father, Nicolino
A small boy with dark eyes grew to dream, and invent. Toys for the children of the world, and for us, your own. What began as a limp took over your whole body, robbing the light inside you. Before it did, one winter evening, you taught me to ice skate. Around and around we went, on the small circle of our frozen swimming pool. My mother called us in for dinner. Usually obedient, I pretended not to hear. Something told my young heart that this would never happen again. Around and around we went, father and daughter. You gave us your native land, and your vision that invention could create a life. The last time I saw you, it was to feed you a favorite dish. As I turned back   from the open door, your eyes met mine. A steady, direct unfamiliar look. It was good-bye. There was nothing left unfinished between us.
©Elisa Maria Argiro
#love#father#toys#invention
FrancescaRegan
Written by
FrancescaRegan
Sep 1, 2015
Sep 1, 2015 at 4:02 PM UTC
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