Replay

The video recording remembers,
though memory has degraded a touch.
Recycled, replayed, grown grainy,
watching good girl he loves oh so much.
That day she’d seemed so immortal;
safe, secure, father’s love pure & strong.
Laughing, runs ragged, hides from him.
How had it all gone grotesquely wrong?
Replays each every action all anguished;
rewinds, repeats, pause…stop & play.
Seeking some wise word to summon her here
yet knows not which wise word to say.
On the screen her arms are around him,
videoed voice says she loves her dear dad.
His emotions each echo, meet mix mournful;
one part happy, two terrified, six sad.
When will he hold her in his arms anew
and tell her that they’ll nevermore part?
Their Sunday scene reached it’s ending,
each replay pushes pins into his heart.
Yet it also hurts not to see her here,
so bring on the joy, the loss, the pain.
His eyes well with such slick sadness
as he watches good girl laughing again.
The video recording remembers,
though memory has degraded a touch.
Recycled, replayed, grown grainy,
watching good girl he loves oh so much.

Copyright © 2016 Philip Craddock. All rights reserved.

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