Fractal hoar frost crawling up the window
Tiny probing finger nails of anguish
Scratching way natures perfect design
To see snow’s crunching fast feet approaching
Rattling keys, door squeak, stomping feet, and slam
Silence embraces the rush of cold air
A long sigh and cursing for his bottle
Debra dear, daddy wants his nightly coddle
© 2011 Michael Yost
I often find it difficult to comment on your poems. I like all of them, the words are usually perfectly combined with feelings and events, but the reality, the fact how well you’ve captured things of every day life, make me speechless.
This was a sad one, scary … the daddy with the bottle, I wish there won’t be little girls that have to experience such horrible moments, alas … there are! A prayer for Debra and all like her!
I understand. Debra’s name is not real, but this situation as told to me was very real. You and I both try to reflect real images and events in our work and I respect your comments because I respect your work; but when you find it too hard to comment It’s OK. Prayers for “Debra” are always a good thing! smiles…
Good one! Touching with a good flow! Happy rally!
I believe this kind of scenario is acted out more than we could ever imagine. You do capture this darkness in a very matter-of-fact way–with horror intertwined.
Thanks Gayle. The situation resolved itself and he did do some prison time, but the scaring…
bless you and your girl.
She’s a friend and on her own path towards recovery.