Litkicks Message Board Archive

My Father

Posted to Poetry




Mild mannered gentle
Patient understanding
Loving, caring, DEAD.

Eagerly awaiting
the sound of the
approaching bicycle

It's here. He's here.
Bicycle clips caress
His trousers.

Climbing on the bar
the speed of the wind
bring us closer.

Lying in bed
the sound of the door
closes. He approaches

armed with comics
lightening my mood
turning the dial

he finds the channel
like only he could.

Stories of the sea.
Tots of rum.

Long walks
raspberry toffee
Him and me.