Chair in the corner of the dining room,
and Daddy sitting in it, and only the orange glow from the ashes,
and gray puffs of smoke,
gave any signal of human presence.
Otherwise it was just the darkness and a chair in the corner,
otherwise it was just daddy in the dark and all alone.
I watched the firelight from the cigarette, as a child,
and wondered why the night was so black,
and why Daddy was so alone, and why voices rang out in the night.
I thought of Mama in the next room sleeping,
and I wondered why I was so small, and why Mama and Daddy never laughed.
And I felt like the night, cold,
and like Daddy,
and like Mama.
so all alone.
Copyright 2019, Jenny W. Andrews
My poetry book “Life at the End of the Rainbow” is currently available at Amazon/Kindle. I would love to hear any feedback about my poetry. Thanks.