Out of Sorts

A son remembers his father.

He float blankly,
In dream of his only born.
As artificial as living wire
In human form.

For like his coming
Days of birth
He vanished just as quickly.

And his voice would fade from memory
In ill demanded shouts.
His son would only remember
The day he cast his own father out.

Reviews

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

This poem speaks to me and resonates somewhat in my heart. I grew up with an abuse father and much of what I remember most was his anger and rage. A lot of shouting often accompanied his attacks. Letting go was not as difficult as forgiving. Thank you for sharing your poem with us.

[Brian Pomphrey]

Thank you for your kind words. Its not always easy to ruminate on the past.