September 23, 1992.

This poem was originally written during my senior year in high school, and went untouched until maybe last week. I changed it a lot, but kept a lot of the same imagery and ideas. It's about the night I found out my dad had passed away.

September 23, 1992

Just a playful five year-old waiting patiently
in my aunt’s quaint house, my reflection smiled back
from the window I looked out with the light from
the kitchen creating a blinding glare.
Outside, daylight faded away more quickly; nature’s
bold statement telling us summer’s over; although it
would seem my life was over instead.
I was sleepy and lethargic when my mom returned,
and the headlights shone in the window but quickly dimmed
when she shut off the ignition of my father’s car.
She dragged herself in the house with an expression unknown.
Even then, I didn’t know my house would shelter one less.
She sat on the couch, she took my hands, and hers were a mess;
cold, aching, tired, shaking.
“Kristen, daddy’s gone.”
Those words will forever haunt my heart,
but I didn’t cry because I didn’t understand.
I thought I’d go home and he'd come back one day.