no frills to cover the pain…
no snares to contain it
no traps to confine it
no dictionary to define it.
My heart writhes
a river of aching,
longing, wishing…
this daughter's heart breaking.
I miss the nearness of you-
the smell of rough tweed,
the peeling leather elbow patch,
your roast-beefy hands
drawing lines on a napkin
to make a point.
The way you cherished
that noon balloon,
the perfect viscosity
of a crafted martini…
the way some men appreciate
a beautiful woman.
I was so hungry for those lunches
when I had you all to myself.
I was careful
to dish up the best of myself…
me the thinker
me the listener,
the cautious balancer of facts--
I showed you the wise woman
I might become.
I showed you the defiant individualist
and the soother of souls
but never, never
that needy little girl
who needed more of your light
illuminating her world
because she was the one
who frightened you away
by her yearning tears
that begged you to stay
to hear her out.
The door slammed against churning emotion,
unbalanced demand for attention.
Thats all she wanted…
the being near you that wasn't planned
sustained her soul,
affirmed her wholeness.
It's OK Dad.
Those days are gone
and so are you…
but the need hangs on.
Her ghost appears when I'm alone
except now it is me
who slams the door
in angry defense,
the final "No more!"…
yet still
she stands
begging
on the threshhold.
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