Daddy
She calls out
Sweet voice wistful
Through the door
Entreating
Tossing auburn curls
Asking for Daddy.
Daddy.
Daddy
Can’t come to the door, love
He can’t walk
Not really
He can’t talk
Not right now
He’s not alone
No he isn’t.
Mommy
She cries out
Soft voice remembering
Through the door
Pleading
Wiping wet cheeks
Pining for Mommy.
Mommy.
2 comments:
hauntingly beautiful
Thanks Rama. That's a lovely way of articulating the feel of that poem.
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