Boxes


Happy Father’s Day, Daddy…. You’re very missed.

Danced with grief
and you

Healing chose to neglect me-
same day they lowered you in your
little box
‘neath cold Alberta clay

Numb with guilt
I remember you small
still alive
hallucinating on morphine

You thought you’d won a watch
frustrated – we couldn’t understand
your rambling,
hard to speak with only half a tongue

I am angry
at you

Your ghost lingers – don’t think
I haven’t noticed
sneaking into my dreams still ashen – bent and aged
no words pass between accusing stares

I’ve buried my pain
and you

All that I could
locked away in secrecy
and sanctity
all the little gems I’ve put in my own box

Secured forever in my mind
in a thousand vaults with a million locks
not the drink, curses and violence
but laughter, cherry tobacco and of course, love

I’ve labelled this box

of you

Brush away dust and cobwebs – you’ll see,
Simplistic – a girl’s scribble
“Dad”.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s