The love story

heads and faces manysparrows art (7)

There are places one is supposed to be
for the other,
that become acutely painful
in the absence.

An experience once born in two ways
remains heavier then ever it should be,
on its own

the divorce
that drives love apart

the tragedy that strikes a side
and drags it farther down
then it could have
if it was struck
when whole.

I think of all the ways I have lost a father,
the ways I lose a father today
and the ways I will come to lose him again and again tomorrow

what was done and dusted,
and aches
twice over,
for here is a place he should have been.

The father I don’t have
would have stood with me and explained
what is was like for him – ‘when’

The offer of help
Or a warm hug

A smile
that spans the full scope of my existence…
He was supposed to be here today.

I hear ghost footsteps,
a ghost phone rings,

I open my heart
to the imagination of him
and side step the sadness

‘I love you!!’

I am merely me,
I know all of two things,
my father and I.