Bio Note: I am a married father of two and an educator teaching disadvantaged youth and adults in rural Missouri. I have a Master's Degree in English Curriculum & Instruction from the University of Missouri and currently edit the poetry magazine Sparks of Calliope. My second collection of poems, Memoirs of a Witness Tree (Kelsay Books, 2020), is available on Amazon. My poems have been featured by Better than Starbucks, The Hypertexts, and Snakeskin, among other publications.
A glass of water, half consumed, remained Neglected at the table where she sat Before her father tenderly explained How nothing can be done, and that is that. Oh, how can one so quickly lose all hope? She asked herself as numbness settled in. And as she wondered how she’d ever cope He thought about the places he had been, The accolades he’d hung upon the wall In black and silver frames, advanced degrees, Group photos from his days of playing ball, His membership in nine societies… With all of these and more he was undone By forces far outside of his control Accomplishments, hard-earned, now felt unwon, Despair crept in and grappled with his soul. He’d trade it all if he could ease her pain. He hadn’t meant to make his daughter cry. His life was lived too fully to complain, Yet still he wasn’t set to say goodbye.
Originally published in Nine Muses Poetry
While waiting for the Greyhound bus, My dad and I, the two of us, Recounted pleasant moments passed: The memories we had amassed, Experienced, and oft discussed. Our dialog continued thus— Light-hearted and extraneous— Until we saw the bus at last While waiting. We said goodbye without much fuss; I stepped into the ominous, Uncharted future from the past Not knowing how my die was cast And feeling I grew up too fast While waiting.
Originally published in Rue Scribe
©2021 Randal Burd
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