The Flutter - Poem by Millie Green
Our father was a dreamer
His mind chased numbers
Integers and their patterns were his
when they proved elusive
He disputed Chaos vehemently
he was like all parents
a chance that begets chances
on and on
small female hands in
arduous male spans that secure
girls in giddy flight-' oh Dad'
Fathers raise voices
his disgruntled silence was
OUr father was a gambler
but his winnngs were rapidly spent
as the paper fluttered of shame
I laughed with my old man
Pissed in seedy pubs - who cares?
yet that yoke of expectation
and his lax will
our love was palliative
a nourishing soup
for the inadequacies of nurture.
Love is forgiving
i loved my flawed Dad
another man forgiven
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