Pulling into the driveway
I fight back the tears as they sting my eyes.
Could I really be back here?
Didn't I hear about this house
burning to the ground years ago?
As I force my feet out of the car
I can feel the heat from the asphalt
or is it an electric pulse as I feel
my old metal rollerskates on my feet
like so long ago?
I grab hold of the car to steady myself
(it's been years since I've rollerskated) .
I enter the garage to find my dad's car
still packed with all his belongings.
The clothes still on hangers
piled across the back seat.
Where does he go when she kicks him out?
Do they realize how much it hurts
to see his life packed into a car...again?
Nearing the door I can hear nothing.
I wonder if they're home.
I'm frozen.
If I knock, they might answer.
I'm not sure I'm ready to face them.
Raising my fist to knock
I see my arm as I fight to stop the shaking.
I must go inside.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
his life packed into a car, i see this well, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,10