Poetry Here (Mostly)

After the Visit


 

Even as he pulls into my driveway,

and I’m happy that safely he is here,

inside I struggle with negative

projections that to him I don’t reveal.

 

Each day passes fast, then his visit ends.

Resigned, I’m on the porch to watch as he

packs his blue car with bags and gifts to take.

No tears, I will wave him out of my view.

 

I must not focus on such visions now

that he has just arrived, we have not hugged,

must reacquaint, me and this man, my son,

so tall, so bright his brain and smile, my boy.

 

Though when he departs, an adult again,

I’ll linger in his room, still cluttered but

then empty, and there I’ll write new poems

that fill space but do not lose the echo.

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Comments on: "After the Visit" (2)

  1. Each day passes fast..Also lost a lot of things..nice poem~

  2. the sadness of this poem hurts, hope its not your son you are talking about. then he is making a mistake which he will regret bitterly later.

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