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/ImagesImages(Images of my father, family, me, and my Father.)A poem about my childhood written in 1997 while attending Al-Anon. This is not suitable to be read by the crude and insensitive. The corner bar, the cigarette pack, The mother and children alone, the sad little face, A high church steeple. The brown bottle, the white cigarette, The broken family, the quivering little lips, The quiet church pews. The neon lights, the flare of a match, The huddled family, the glistening little eyes, A stained glass window. The stumbling steps, the yellow fingers, The clenched fists, the little black eye, A head bowed in prayer. The telltale breath, the cloud of smoke, The shame, the tear-stained little cheek, The uplifted cross. The drunken stupor, the yellow teeth, Abandonment, the lost little boy, The nail-scarred hands. Alcohol, nicotine, Separation, divorce, the broken little heart, A still small voice. Diseased liver, diseased lung, hospital bed; A coffin and the graveyard, he is dead. Brown earth, green grass, blue sky; White clouds, yellow sun, He is alive. |
1997-10-04 |