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Jan 2014
I was six:

On the steps
Of the small
Carousel

Stood the old,
Greying haired
And mustached

Man in a
Ratty suit
Smiling and

Anxiously
Peering out,
Waited for

Me.

"He is your
Father, say
Hello please"

"Hello" I'd
Said to the
Stranger who'd

Introduced
As father
Yet I hadn't

Met or seen
Before or
After and

That's where it
Ends.
The one,
The only,
Memory
Of him.

Good riddance
I suppose.
I found this one in a notebook. This is a 2012 poem.
Chris T
Written by
Chris T
1.7k
   Tilly, r, Robert G Page, Ghos, --- and 2 others
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