Pagosa Springs Artists

Lost Innocence II

for Gunnar

 

Dad went to prison the year
  I was in fourth grade. I never
  believed it could happen. When
  it did, at first I turned cold,
  then numb.  Inconsolable.

   Mom was strong that day
   we went to the jail to visit Dad,
   to say our goodbyes.  But somehow
   I couldn’t speak to him through a glass
  security window and microphone.
   I thought my world had ended.

  Life somehow went on,
  but without happiness or hope.
    Our aunts often invited us for dinner.
  My teacher was kind and solicitous.
  The principal called me to his office
  for weekly chats, asked how I felt,
  how the school kids treated me,
  if I was keeping my grades up.

  We weren’t allowed to see Dad
  the first couple months he was in
  the penitentiary; then could afford
  to go visit him only twice a month.

  My brother’s babyish antics upset me.
  I hated the extra work, the unnaturally
  quiet house, the loneliness.  Hated Dad
  for deserting us.  Hated learning to lie.

 

 

 

first published in BEHIND PRISON WALLS Chapbook

©2011 Bonnie Manion

   

Poem of the Month

  • October - 2019
  • "Rich"