Just a Skeletal Hand
how can i go back –
to being my father’s son?
when daddy’s girl –
lost out so young
from a child on father’s knee
to a grown woman –
trying to set her emotions free
and with a flurry of confusion
that pulls her across a stormy sea
the only person,
who knows how uncontented we can be
how can i go back –
six feet under
and funeral dominated by thunder
striking down the pain
and black if fine for mourning
but rainbow is much better –
for something after the pain
brothers and sisters.
well, we can joint hands
i have surveyed the father i never knew
its washed out then barren lands
if you look when you reach out –
it is just a skeletal hand
James Garratt – Saturday 20th December 2003
More poems at
https://theboybehindtheglasses.com/
More about this blog, The Boy Behind the Glasses, here
https://theboybehindtheglasses.com/2020/01/08/the-boy-behind-the-glasses-an-introduction/
More poems from 2003 here
https://theboybehindtheglasses.com/category/poems-and-writing-2003/
Just a Skeletal Hand – Written Saturday 20th December 2003 (Aged 28)
