To a lost lullaby father


To a lost lullaby father that aches
in a watery dispense of war,
in a long lost in character,
I am still the boy I once was,
navy innocent in blue unfolding,
kin smart, square quibbled.

In the pale eyes of my old father
with hearing aid and wanting more
than sermons and salty breezes
can offer before the sands
settles anew on another strand
I am a lost song, still breaking.




Poetry by Bob
Read 455 times
Written on 2011-05-30 at 19:48

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