Fathers

My mum told him you need to come this way again

To see your grandchildren

Despite how much your old bones ache. I see how much smaller

He is in comparison to

The one I was afraid of angering way back when, how then and now have conspired

To make his arms softer

No more iron but formless as sand, moving under a fingertip

I remember the snap and crack

Of my heart in august

When he practised a foreign nice to meet you on the bus ride over

The hands holding the paper were

Not quite steady, and he drank too much and grasped

My father in law by the upper arms in the way that men do when they are afraid to let go.

Time is both hurting and helping us;

I can’t remember the last time he raised his voice at me, only the

Wet choke of pride over

Computer Connections that hum with words that are chewed over, but in the end

Swallowed down. I wish I could say out loud

I love you – you have made me this way. I love you, you still have a duty to me

It is you I will hold onto, in church

Until I accept the protection of another man.

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About fiercemissc

Twenty-something Geordie girl living and working in Hong Kong. Young, free and single and making the most of it.
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