Danger Home

Her folks divorced when she was 6 years old.
Her father grew disordered in his mind.
She sensed the edginess, but never told
her mother how the evenings misaligned.
Two score of years were fated to unfold
before she trod that neighborhood, to find
a memory of feeling danger foam
instead of comfort, in her father’s home.

(Ottava Rima)

This entry was posted in Aging, Family, Poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

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