View single post by timmy
 Posted: Wed Nov 13th, 2013 11:52 pm
PM Quote Reply Full Topic


Joined: Fri Jun 9th, 2006
Location: Oz, Minnesota USA
Posts: 1084
There were times in my life
when I didn’t really know
my father; such as the times
he would argue with mother
about whatever married parents
argued about; he would storm
out of our small house and march
down the street like some kind
of middle-aged soldier-of-life; later,
he would return and they would hug
and mother would cry like a little girl
and things would seem to be fine
like the weather seems to be fine,
but one never knows the weather,
always do we? Sometimes we pretend
the day is fine when it’s really raining
and all the plans we had made
for what seemed like a thousand years
are cancelled but we go on to the next day
with smiles on our faces and tomorrow’s
dreams on our beds anyway

Once, when I was maybe ten, it was dark
and I was in the woods and father came
marching by and I called out to him
but he kept marching that soldier march
and I called again like a ten year might
when it’s dark out and you don’t want
anyone to know you’re afraid of the dark

He kept marching, crazy with wind clatter
at his back, and me following him
as far as the big hill in front of Eau Claire,
the one that went down and up the big hill
and everybody knew we weren’t
supposed to go down the hill in the dark,
but father did and I let him go and he never
did turn around and acknowledge me;
it was one of the times I didn’t know
my father, kind of like the time I went
to his funeral and there was nothing there
but ashes and I was scared to call his name
for fear he wouldn’t answer me yet again