Turning Back Time
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Dark death did not break the bond with my dad,
when I need his love I just turn back time;
he stops his working when I come so sad,
and on to the chair beside him I climb.
For in this memory I am his- child,
he dries my tears with a ragged shirt part;
socks falling down- skirt hem ripped- dark hair wild,
he whispers . . . life will get better dear heart.
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March 27, 2023
Poetry/Rhyme/Turning Back Time
Copyright Protected, ID 03-1534-401-27
All Rights Reserved, 2023, Constance La France
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2023
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