Memories

a poem about my father

Searching every corner

through every embroidered room

kitchen, living room, bedroom.

What’s left of it.

 

I found my father in the basement

full of thirty years expired food,

rugs full of rips and tears.

 

My tireless supporter,

leaning on a stone pillar

in a lamentable condition

tears sliding down his face

haunted by old recurrences

of ping pong and pool

with his best friend, Jerry.

 

With every faint echo I have,

he has hundreds of vivid memories.

After the passing of his father

and the dementia of his mother

his comfort is within his child

as he’s growing old and gray.

Reviews

[Soul Fire]

Great poem :D

[Adrian Majerle]

Thank you.

[Soul Fire]

youre welcome

[afra]

great write i also wrote a poem like this one ...its name is NEEDS A NAME ...i really enjoyed this write ...well done and keep writing

[Adrian Majerle]

This poem is also about 3 years old. I just joined this thing like 10 minutes ago so I posted this.

[afra]

it was really good

[Adrian Majerle]

Thanks. Oh, and I forgot I published this one too in some book.

[afra]

you published a book ?

[Adrian Majerle]

No, I wish. I published this poem in a book of other people's writing as well as my own

[afra]

oh ...okay