My father is going far away to an <br />inaccessible place near Zimbabwe, <br />I shall no longer be able to pop in <br />and check on him, shall be unable to <br />share and see the light-hearted mirth <br />of the baboon’s bully-beef tin <br /> <br />Not able to watch André Rieu DVD’s <br />while gossiping about family, not able <br />hear him recalling Grandma Alice <br />nostalgically, recounting his youth when <br />he knew the local Mafia intimately, I had <br />better make a list of final questions <br /> <br />I will record his answers before he <br />leaves - about his memories of our <br />childhood and his attempts to create <br />a better life for all of us, compare his <br />varying versions of recent history ac- <br />cording to mood, context and place <br /> <br />I am going to miss him, sharing his <br />boyish enthusiasm for toys and fine <br />porcelain, drinking from a delicate <br />cup is like kissing a beautiful girl <br />he says with a wink – Oh, I am going <br />to miss him...<br /><br />Margaret Alice<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/2010-05-31-miss-him/
