Friday, June 17, 2016

POEM - My Father is the Ghost My Mother Lives With

This isn't some metaphor
A loveless marriage
Ships passing in the night
Some abandoned halls of an empty four chamber heart

My father is in fact deceased
He expired and is no more Encased 
In this mortal coil

But it is a decade and a half later
And I only think of him when I need to
Or when my mother is talking
Or on the anniversaries
Of his birth or his death

But my mother still sort of needs him
To be around
Make sure things are in order
Be a presence to fill a lonely void
Somehow

And she expects him to be there
And when she talks about the little signs
The signals he still gives her
I don't think of it dismissively 
As the quaint fantasies of an addled mind
No mater how much I want to
Because I know she believes they are parted
But not separated 
And she believes forever is real
And he did to

And we all believe in ghosts
That like to visit on an occasion
Like to whisper to the grandchildren
To tell mom to do the dishes
Because he always told her that

He is the ghost that she lives with
That checks on her now and then
Whispers to her as well
Little things to calm her nerves
Lets her catch a glimpse of him
Out of the corner of her eye
With a big smile on his face
That raises his eyebrows 
And makes his eyes twinkle mischievously 

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