My father lives in my dreams now:
In death he is half a stranger,
Professional, like my doctor.
He has left me behind, moved on.
...
Read full text
Congratulations from your coincidential neighbour in this poetic window-seat! And a hope that sixty finds you alive and imbibing a little more than moderation...
I like father poems - now I can see the connection with Sylvia Plath - all that think with Otto. Nice one. Think I'll give it a ten