Adult Child

So my luck –
father’s favourite child,
me, no boy for him…

he drinks –
thousand morning scold –
knows I respect, make peace
and, you’d think
protect them

star – wishing god
was there, us
together, working it.

(Friday is Magnet Poetry online.)

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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

13 thoughts on “Adult Child

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