Cj Krieger Poet Prose Poetry

Sounds of My Father

There are those of us who were not blessed with wonderful, or even good 
memories of their father
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Exhausted by another night of sleeplessness
Alone in his home 
Not by choice but by fate
His mind raced ahead
Like a freight train on speed
Dashing franticly 
Down a steep hill

Looking at the clock 
He remembered his father
From long ago 
And the anger he held inside
Especially the morning sounds

Yes... the sounds
There were sounds his father made 
As he prepared to begin his day

Sounds that came
From the bathroom, and shower

Sounds his father made
As he prepared himself 
To begin his workday

Sounds
That as a child 
He learned to fear

For it meant 
His father was awake
And his father 
Was an angry man

Now 
As the fatigued child
Almost sixty 
Tired from lost sleep 
And lost dreams 
Prepared himself for the workday

In the bathroom 
Where he stood
Years after his father
Had passed away
From his own lips
Came the sounds 
Of his father

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