Slowly, Ever So Slowly
Slowly, ever so slowly,
I feel my guilt turning into love.
Acceptance of the way my life has been trod.
It has not really been that odd.
Like history being rolled out like dough under a rolling pin.
All mushed > all flat.
I’d love to see it when it’s flat. (On the other side)
More reason to be happy and rejoice.
Either I’m living a lie or everything I have been told about
You is coming true.
Maybe you are my Dad.
About the author
I live with my wife, an artist, in Indianapolis. Besides poetry, I like to take photographs, read books, travel overseas, and listen to news/political podcasts, college lectures and classic literature. You can read about my approach to poetry on my poetics page. To stay in touch, follow me on Twitter or connect on a variety of other social networks.
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