It Was My Father's Fight Poem by Christine K. Trease

A memory of my father erupts as the shoreline washes nigh,
crushing waters from the ocean crashing upon me.
I balance the beating wind of reason
and waves of unadulterated emotion.
A woman's footprints, leading towards me, now washed away.
I see a glimpse of her smile as I fight the waves again.
The storm is now fully assiduous.
I battle vigorously as I visualize her clearly now.
This only serves to weaken me and I diminish,
crumpled beneath the grey sky,
his name resounding in my head, father, my father.
Her requited passion washes over my lifeless body
with each rush of the tide. A storm of flesh and blood,
I see her loveliness now as clearly as before.

Destruction of my ocean beach, inflicting so much pain,
I cannot swallow the desire, so I cannot remain.
I shall swiftly join them, three lovers, they and I.
I cannot face a life alone, 'tis a meaningless good-bye.
How pitiful to understand what once brought me delight,
was ruined in the end, when it became my father's fight.