Seen better days… — a poem

Seen better days.

            Scene. Bitter days…

A lot of rot
about what makes
a home —
a home life —
a home like the one this has been.

            Enter. The father, worse for wear. A has-been.

What is left
when whitewash
won’t cover
what ate away

A key truth
in all this
is my failure
our love…

            Exeunt all but REGRET.

the door ajar.

            No Fanfare. No reentry.


* * *

The Sunday Muse

22 thoughts on “Seen better days… — a poem

  1. Nice drama, Charley. A downer on the star, a father who failed. Our gr8daughter is in her second year of junior high drama classes. We attended the dress rehearsal for her latest play, she is the pufferfish, a speaking part. We are proud of her, she may be following her sister’s steps who has a double major at Georgetown U in Math and Theatre. (Also has a Masters degree in Math). I learned a new word here, “exeunt”, I’m sure our new star knows this. I’ll brag on myself to her. 😉

    Liked by 1 person

  2. First, thanks for the link to the Hardy poem–he has a flavor that is difficult to define as tasting good, but is addictive anyway. Your own poem is deft with some difficult issues also, but clean and sharp as surgery. Regret is a staple in my own closet, and the doors that are supposed to open when another one closes never quite take me away from it, as is the feeling in this poem, true to life, true to memory.

    Liked by 1 person

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