Blinding lights like an operating room.
I curl myself in the booster seat,
Woven polyester straps pulled to the sides.
Muffled roars of arriving flights make for difficult napping.
If I keep my eyes closed, will they think I’m asleep?
Whispering, hugging, kissing, reuniting.
Maybe I won’t have to walk?
He picks it up,
Back and forth, back and forth.
Rhythmic, entrancing, monotonous.
Click, clack, click, clack.
Strong, safe, sure.
Sliding doors make way for our departure.
A blast of humidity, thick and suffocating.
If I open one eye, surely he won’t notice?
Warm golden glow of street lamps light the path to our vehicle.
We will soon be in our new home,
In a new town,
In a new state.
Mom looks relieved,
Sister looks defeated,
He looks triumphant.
I’m so glad to see him again,
My sister would scold me for it.
She tells me he is not our father.
No one can replace our father.
But maybe, just maybe,
He could try?
(Several Years later...)
In front of me, I see a mourning dove,
Alert on the porch railing,
Peering through the mirror of my soul.
Down the steps to the flush green lawn,
The squirrels patronize one another,
Into the darkness of daylight savings.
To my right,
In a garden of daylilies,
The fireflies bob and sway,
Like the ocean near my birth.
I lean in, as the world around me fades.
A red-tailed hawk sings in the distance, calling me home.
I miss my life.
About the Creator
Misty Kate
Stories and poems of figuring out who I am, motherhood at 20, anxiety/depression, and family and friends. I have three fathers, I'm engaged to high school sweetheart, with a wonderful son! This is my actual life and struggles I have faced.
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