Sunday 20 November 2011

Pater Familias



You keep popping up

In the strangest places.



Walking into a room,

Your face appears,

Smiling the same odd way.



Real or not,

I know you’re there.

My shadow everywhere

Bumps into yours.



I hear your voice

Through doors

Long closed.



Even the dark

Assumes your shape;



You’re here so much,

The monsters under the bed

Have been complaining.

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