Get Your Premium Membership

Toast For My Dad

You always loved your toast burnt Black and ashy and crisp Marmalade piled on top - gluey mound Orange rinds like cuticles - liberally spread Soaking into the blackened bread When I think about you two years on Its not so much the big things that stick out But the little slices of life - if you will And the smell of citrus and scorched crumbs remains, still

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment
Date: 1/3/2018 2:47:00 AM
A daughter reflects. You remember detail. Somehow I feel the ode goes on.
Login to Reply
Date: 6/2/2017 5:06:00 PM
I love this :) xomo!
Login to Reply
Date: 5/22/2017 5:09:00 AM
Hi Zara ,nice to meet, beautiful write , you are so right the small things like sound , smells , seeing all have a place , I think it is the good healing part of grief :)) hugs from Ireland
Login to Reply
Bosman Avatar
Zara Bosman
Date: 5/24/2017 6:23:00 PM
:)
Date: 5/17/2017 6:28:00 AM
a real cool piece I have read today
Login to Reply