It's just poetry, it won't bite

Sitting With My Father

03.22.18 Posted in today's words by

Nancy Scott McBride’s most recent poem to appear here was “Bedtime” (February 2018)

Sitting With My Father
By Nancy Scott McBride

He’s in the current,
going out,
floating down the Big Muddy river
on his way to the sea.

The tides,
that pulled him back
and back again to life
have lost their hold.

He doesn’t fear
the power of the moon.
He’s given up the grasp,
let loose the ties that bind.

As his head nods back
against the chair in the
sudden doze of the old,
a trick of sleep fleshes out the bones

and his face
is the face
of my Daddy
once again.

I watch him dream,
years washing away
as he tosses and turns in the stream.
I imagine him reaching the sea.

He rises above the waves
as young and handsome as ever,
laughing as he shakes the shining droplets
from his shoulders,

walks the water,
with a wriggling fish under each arm.

One Response to “Sitting With My Father”

  1. I felt as though I were running along the river bank. Watching and waiting with you.

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