HOLE IN YOUR HEART

When you were ten you wept
when your prince rode away
on the white horse with her, not you.
Soon pink envelopes replaced
those letters signed Love, Daddy,
which you kept, so carefully guarded,
in your secret hiding place.
Summer visits became almost a chore,
a duty, because he worked, she didn't,
and bedtime was early.

When their daughter came,
you stood outside the broken glass,
a waif wanting to come in.
Your strides, though vigorous,
never measured up; her trophies
gleamed atop his mantel.

Now you're thirty-three,
and in the quiet room
you caress his lifeless brow,
the tears of a lifetime
exploding in your heart.

Copyright © 1993 Ruth Gillis