Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Write About an Old Family Photograph of Your Father

Daddy's Dreamcatcher

When you held my hand,
it was more than a father
and a son.

I saw the world
through the dark glasses
you gave me.

I was your dream catcher
the child who played
while you stole potatoes
from the push cart
and roasted them with newspaper
in a tin can.

Late at night
you would tell the stories
as I nestled in my warm bed.

I remember best
the story of the shopkeeper
who saw you steal the tiny apple pie
but looked away
because he knew you were starving,

How you saved the pie
and ate it that night
in the dark,

How you thought of the man's
eyes spying you in the mirror
as the sweet filling
dripped down your chin
and the crust flaked
onto your pillow.

There was love in the world
There was grace and mercy.

I knew this well,
huddled snug under the
covers as the radiator hissed
its sweet warm song.

I knew this
because I was the proof.

Barry Lane

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