To Dad, with Hope


One never wanders alone,
We wander in packs,
So often packs of two.
We see ourselves bent
Within the memories
Searching for the anchor
Of - hope.
And we find that - so often not - too.
But we do -
And, well - there are times
When there are no memories
To hold on to;
So that two - is actually one,
With a shadow of someone gone.
Could hope have shadows?
Could I have you?
No.
But - yes; maybe. Eventually.
And that's what I cling to:
A time when I am not one,
But a pack of two:
Without a shadow, without a memory -
With, just, you.

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