Daddy Poem by michele kostelnik
Daddy
How best should I remember you?
I think of how fast lives pass...
No choice but to weep, soon
or last, be lost or caught-
Bitter still,
I'm expected to forget the tiny streets,
summer beach houses and white
washed ships rolling upon the sea.
Want some irony?
You were my own.
The outline of your face
is seared in my mind.
I envy your freedom.
And I,
Like the watchman on the path,
peer through the waves,
wait patiently,
white faced
with memory.
This one escapes me a bit, but the imagery is solid, and the mood is definite. Nice, strong work.
Deep and heartfelt. Unless I am reading it wrong your dad is dead and he lived a full life with no regrets. You are left living, remembering him fondly and keeping the flame alive. Strong poem, that.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/5/2024 2:59:59 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Like the watchman on the path, peer through the waves, wait patiently, white faced with memory., Very wunderfull..........