A Father's Love, poem by Janet Thorning

      We used to sit beside each other,
      skin kissing skin,
      and you reading the paper,
      and me lost in the fascination
      of pulling the black hairs on your
      ghostly legs.
      And how brave you were to
      sit there, quietly, enduring
      my devilish ways.
      You were my hero.
      And when the bad man touched me
      you calmed his touch
      with a walk in the park,
      and cotton candy
      that sweetened more
      my dreams
      of being young,
      of growing up,
      of becoming a beautiful woman,
      of never being afraid of who I am.


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Michael Rothenberg
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