Linta Babar MNSR

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My Father

My father left me,
when I was twenty.
He was a leaf,
that ran away from its tree.

He had ocean blue eyes,
exactly like mine.
In the light his hair was gold,
while mine was ash and coal.

We never said hi or goodbye,
because we knew,
we would see each other another time.

He was in the battle that we call life,
a silent standing soldier,
but BAM,
a bullet took him down like a knife.

He used to tell me stories about the sea,
how the dolphins would jump in delight,
and how the stars would be so clear at night,
and how he promises that one day he would take me.

Right now I'm wearing my black dress,
thinking about him,
probably looking like a mess,
but still missing him.

And I won't say goodbye,
because I know that we will meet.
in another time,
but we will meet.

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