Not Again
by Laurie Kolp
I watched you from the staircase late last night
as I hugged Tinky Winky, my purple Teletubby doll.
You plucked those muddy boots right off your feet
and stumbled across the floor like Captain Hook.
When Mommy rose from the chair and offered you a kiss,
you turned your head and handed her the gourd
and Vanilla extract you picked up at the store,
then started yelling about some relative Uncle Sam;
bitter nonsense you squawked at drooping hope.
Why are your eyes so glossy when you come home?
You’re not the same Daddy who left so long ago.
Please come back to me and wipe away my tears.
*Wordle: purple, kiss, drooping, gourd, hook, staircase, muddy, bitter, doll, extract, glossy, pluck
4 comments:
You have caught the ride and this poem clearly expresses the pain in alcoholism. I suppose that is both good and bad news. No child should have to lose her dad this way and so many do.
In my experience those who don't have this experience don't bring it up, and so I guess we are related on the planet, you and I and so many more, all of us having alcoholic chaos in the family.
You've certainly captured the child's confusion. Nicely written!
Wow, Laurie, this could have been me. Very good use of the prompt, yet bittersweet as well. I love all your work, who'm I kidding?!
Amy BL
well captured confusion.. lovely use of the prompt!
My Wordle attempt is Here
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