I left my father lying there
unable to look him in the eye;
I was his only living child,
but I never flew back to say goodbye.

My absence tore apart my heart.
I couldn’t face a hotel room,
no house, no friends, no family,
in the town I once called home.

I remembered my dad for a little while,
but then his face just fled.
Now I seek his smile in this photo,
but his eyes fill me with dread.

No life, no light, no focus,
nothing that I recall;
I look at him quite helplessly:
but he can’t see me at all.


15 thoughts on “Absence

  1. What a sad memories are woven in wonderful words.hey dear roger !! What had happened with your father,?when one thing is near us then we ignore it but abaence of dt thing-we feel most hurted in its memory .am i right dear moor.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Te lo agradezco, Euge. A todos, nos ha pasado algo parecido. Es el problema eterno del emigrante que deja tierra y familia y no puede volver. Tan triste para todos … y yo, que he sufrido mucho con todo esto …


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