My Father's Leaving Poem by Ira Sadoff

My Father's Leaving

When I came back, he was gone.
My mother was in the bathroom
crying, my sister in her crib
restless but asleep. The sun
was shining in the bay window,
the grass had not been cut.
No one mentioned the other woman,
nights he spent in that stranger's house.

I sat at my desk and wrote him a note.
When my mother saw his name on the sheet
of paper, she asked me to leave the house.
When she spoke, her voice was like a whisper
to someone else, her hand a weight
on my arm I could not feel.

In the evening, though, I opened the door
and saw a thousand houses just like ours.
I thought I was the one who was leaving,
and behind me I heard my mother's voice
asking me to stay. But I was thirteen
and wishing I were a man I listened
to no one, and no words from a woman
I loved were strong enough to make me stop.

Thursday, December 3, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: leaving
Shakil Ahmed 03 December 2015

beautifully presented theme, nice work, thanks for sharing

0 0 Reply
Big Falla 05 May 2019

I agree Shakil the theme is well presented

0 0
Ira Sadoff

Ira Sadoff

New York / United States
Error Success