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Dad

A poem of loss

By Josey PickeringPublished 2 years ago 1 min read
2
Dad
Photo by Kelli McClintock on Unsplash

I can remember

holding your hand

en route to the park

your calloused palms

tightly wrapped around my tiny fingers

the same strong hands

that pushed me on the swing.

My own hands would then

wrap around rope

that scratched at my fingerprints

and left impressions

like the memories of you.

There’s the way

that your clothing smelled

from hours spent in ship engines

toiling away to save the day.

You always walked in the door

at the same time

putting in the news

and absorbing the chaos

of the world

as if the chaos in your mind wasn’t enough.

sad poetry
2

About the Creator

Josey Pickering

Autistic, non-binary, queer horror nerd with a lot to say.

Reader insights

Outstanding

Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!

Top insights

  1. Eye opening

    Niche topic & fresh perspectives

  2. Heartfelt and relatable

    The story invoked strong personal emotions

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