Crushed in Silence

I stand before a tree,

My knuckles clenched till white,

And my tears stain my sight.

I wonder what will be.

And, oh we have not spoke,

Have not seen each other.

Though we talk to mother,

Yet, still I feel the choke

Of silence on my throat.

And the falling leaves mock

Each year counted by clock

The scars you left, swell, bloat.

There is nothing to say

To make you pause, turn back,

Other than to attack.

Until I go away.

I stand at this old tree,

Watch the limbs tilt and sway,

Recount a distant day.

Memories I did see

But not you as you live.

You left the child you raised

Deserted the girl praised.

Years of anger you give

As a parting gift to sort

Things I did file away,

That haunt me still today

And to my heart report.

I stand here left to cry

As silence marks the bark

Like the gallows at dark.

With many reasons why.

If one day we would talk,

Would there be praise and pride?

Or nothing left inside?

The silence grates like chalk.

Why are you my father?

Why were you ever kind?

The cruel things stain my mind

And your name they author.

But I cannot find it

Like many words you took

When this oak tree you shook

Forgive you, I forge it.

I do not find you there.

I marry without you.

Walk the aisle in blue.

To the north I do fare.

I will harbor winters,

And relish in the spring.

In the mountains to sing,

Pull from my heart splinters

That you left so much of

Days ago in the cold.

When dare I to be bold.

And lost, now is your love.

I stand before this tree

With many tales to say

That do not reach today

The ears of you or me.