Papa
You never said the words yet I heard them
all the time in your eyes as they crinkled
in laughter when you lifted me on your shoulders,
as I ran to you when you came with the dusk,
with the gold in sunset and silver at moonrise.
You never asked me not to cry, yet I saw
the dark chocolate in your eyes turn sour
at the salty waters running down my cheeks.
You went on a plane and I wished to have wings,
to travel free over your desert flyways for a while.
I never dreamed your dream, and had I known,
O, had I known, I never would have said yes.
Then, you never would have had to go away;
I wouldn’t have had to meet you, now inside a box.
My glass too shattered, I damn the river in my eyes.
Devices :Alliteration, Allusion, Assonance, imagery, metaphor, mood
For Cyndi MacMillan's FIVE PROOF: FREE VERSE THAT SHOWS IT AIN'T NO PROSE
21 January 2015
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