Dear Daddy.

 

Dear Daddy,

I’m getting old now, nearly as old as you,

& I know you’re dead, any talk we do

is in my dreams or in my head…….

 

Last night you ran your hand along my face

asked me how I’m doing, if it’s too late

to be the father all girls expect,

 

to be there sometimes, not on another flight

to a far flung destination where you’re

unobtainable: and your girlfriends hover.

 

Dear Daddy,

 

It’s been so many years and boys chase me

as girls did you, I’m a walking replica

of extinct genes…….

 

the same smooth skin and no grey hair

those undimmed eyes, but daddy now

you seem younger than me….

 

when you visit sometimes dream to dream.

 

Dear Daddy,

 

It really doesn’t make any sense

how being dead you’re just the same,

a figment of memory receptors in my brain……

 

all darling pilot and freedom fighter,

mostly your own freedom

I haven’t found mine……

 

Dear Daddy,

 

You’re so young still………….

 

 

Advertisements

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

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.