222

By bgfay

I remember a show on television
called Room 222. Dad thought
Karen Valentine, the star, was cute
and so I did too figuring that
like everything else, Dad just knew.

This morning I stepped on the scale
and saw 222 under me. Dad is much,
much heavier, but this is not a way
I want to emulate him. It is the thing
about him over which I worry most.

So I took myself out for a run and walk
thinking that if I can just run far enough,
he and I will slim down to the shapes we had
when Karen Valentine taught in room 222,
when Dad was a man who would live forever
and always watch over me.

7 Responses to “222”

  1. Crafty green Poet Says:

    This is excellent, i like how you tie everything up and relate it back to the beginning.

  2. Robin Says:

    A very touching poem about father and son. Numbers bring up interesting images don’t they? I remember that show, Room 222.

  3. Pauline Says:

    “…if I can just run far enough…” a haunting thought.

  4. wendy Says:

    Isn’t it strange how Tv brings us back to our childhood. When I was little, all I wanted was to be bigger…well safe to say, those days are gone!

  5. ...deb Says:

    I love the simple, but evocative, prose. Human, touching.

  6. Marcia (MeeAugraphie) Says:

    This is a touching poem, I wanted you to run far enough.

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