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My Father's Daughter

I stood in the February snow

the freezing sleet

no boots

no coat

Steam wafting off my fury

 

My father read the lie

two hundred yards away

and walking toward me

 

So I owned it

told it

With a snarl

Without a flinch

Both knowing

 

I held my ground before him

and wore the red of his hand

on my face for a week

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e
Written by
elizabeth-balise
Published
Feb 25, 2017
Lines·Words
16·64
Notes

Thank you everyone for the views and comments. The Daily was a nice surprise this evening.

There were five of us kids.  I was the only one who ever did anything like this.  It was like my father needed someone to stop him sometimes.

My father asked, "What are you doing out here?"

I lied,  "Getting some air."

http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1801472/the-mayor-of-wesson-street/

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