This poem is taken from Stand 226, 18(2) June - August 2020.

Josie Alford Two Poems
April the Eighteenth

Dear Dad,

Today, I miss you.
I keep thinking about all the things
that are going wrong and I know
that you’d have been able to fix it.

All I’d have to do is call you mid-morning,
both of us at work, and hope you hadn’t started
drinking yet, before that first can
of Stella; before your syllables
became blurred and you randomly
paused mid-sentence because you forgot
I was there.

When you were sober, I learnt so much.
You had knowledge on the most
hodge-podge things.
You’d listen to me too, would want to learn
about my day and hear the latest thing
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