Far away father

I think of you often,
see you in the eyes of others,
that smile,

hear your words of wisdom
that have never grown old.

I walk the same solitary path now
with the wild wind in my head,
the sound of breakers
on a lonely strand.

We both have the pull of the tide in our blood,
the yearning to walk hills
that exist only in the mists of time.

the words keening in a distant tongue,
drawing me in your wake
to a place we both call home.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

39 thoughts on “Far away father”

      1. When we used to get the ferry back to Ireland with my parents, I was always saddened by the number of men going back home for the weekend. Just poor family men who couldn’t get work in Ireland. Middle-aged men a lot of them who Ireland still couldn’t look after at home.

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