father I don’t remember
the last time I wrote a letter to God
but I do recall that Sunday when you
preached all nightmares are the dead
telling us to confess
thus they are all God-sent
thus confess confess
father I would kneel with you in prayer
if only you were sober
you talk of ghosts as though
you know them but you’ve miscalled my name
for a child no longer here for the twelfth time now
have you forgotten I’ve come home?
yes I’m no longer the boy who packed his lunch
in a kitchen full of empty bottles
and I know my sleeplessness
is a symptom of my sins
but maybe it is a symptom
of yours too father
it’s all right just lay your head down
close your eyes
do not fear the voices
I know your regrets
can last generations but
now is your time to listen
Photo Credit: Anonymous, “The Ghost of Bernadette Soubirous” (1890) by Anonymous.
