In the Name of the Father

Even now, raised voices,
clatter of dishes in sink,
car engine outside and
I’m a child again.

There are those who preach
forgiveness, perhaps I even
envy them but I never
asked for violence.

A child. Just a child.
Always a child. Who can
never forget, never fully
trust, never truly remember

what safety felt like.
I survived because of your
absence, Father, please
don’t ever forget that.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

A Website.

Up ↑

Wendy Pratt Writing

Poetry, Creative Non Fiction, Workshops and Writing Courses

Inking Prose & Poetry

The Art of Prose and Poetry

Fevers of the Mind

Writing, Poetry, Short Stories, Reviews, Art Contests

UHI Blog | Bloga UHI

Where learning means more | Far a bheil ionnsachadh a’ ciallachadh barrachd

%d bloggers like this: