For My Dad
By Richard L. Provencher
Sat, 11 May 2013
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4 comments
Cigarette smoke leaked out
seams in the room
as the hustle and bustle of
boozy laughter and shuffling chairs
surrendered to silence
he got off his own answering
the call of closing time
and making his way home
to a family waiting in the
quietness of rooms soon crackling
with tension. Daddy’s home
pay cheque gone
eye’s ablaze
and no one to meet nor greet
at the front door
gathering him in family arms
sharing the tears he has for them.
© Richard L. Provencher
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Comments
Richard, I absolutely know
Richard, I absolutely know that burden of not being able to forgive. It is cyclic and renews in a richer toxin every so often. It must be a joy to let go and remember him full of life, full of love. Where you can. Writing itself can be therapeutic when it is truthful. Wise words indeed about not being overwhelmed - words I should heed myself on a number of issues. Thank you for sharing.
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