His Baggage Had a Name
Tara would be the bee in any woman’s bonnet,
incessantly whining, “Buy me this, buy me that.”
She knew all the tricks to inflict guilt
in her divorced father who thought he failed her.
Just 12 years old, she’d call at 2 a.m.,
“Daddy, I’m stuck at Walmart.”
Without hesitation, Tom would rush to pick her up,
never suggesting she stayed out too late.
Although she liked to swim in my lake,
at no other time did I see Tara smile.
I was touched by Tom’s devotion to his daughter,
but was more than concerned for her future.
After failing seventh grade twice,
she demanded to be home schooled.
I offered to tutor;
Tara claimed there were courses on the internet,
so Tom showed his weakness when he agreed.
Tom’s good qualities were many
It was Tara who drove the wedge between us
and she never did pass seventh grade.
Tom’s baggage only weighed about a hundred pounds,
but he might as well have carried the world on his shoulders.
January 31, 2017
Copyright © Diane Locksley | Year Posted 2017