Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends

my voice was carved that day

daddy is
a little girl’s
word for god

no matter the fabric
of the man

mine died when i was
6 years
4 months
and 13 days along

my voice was carved that day

in front of my mother
screaming death
on bent hallway knees

i have to tell you, folks

having his statue toppled
became my spine

it made the hell of everyday living
somehow less of an intolerable disaster

all i know is

it is 42 degrees

it is October 26th

i am still alive

my sons thrive

and there is nothing more beautiful
than a child at play

Leave a Reply