Proof
I was walking with my father
Through the junkie's habitat of the park
Past the band-stand to the lake
Where we stood and watched the birds
I longed to find some words to speak to him
He stood beside me like a statue
In some stony silent prayer
I racked my brain for something true
Some sort of spoken key
To unlock the parts in him he never shows
I just wanted to see some proof
That somewhere deep inside he loves me too
I needed to touch his scars
To finally believe that all of this is real...
(2005)
Cynthia Buell Thomas
Thu 11th Mar 2010 12:52
For readers it is so easy to fall into the trap of personallising a poem, as though we have the right to comment on psychological content. And yet, I continue.
This is a social poem which will strike home with many sons, and perhaps might raise the question of why 'proof' of love is actually necessary. Bird-watching together is no small thing. And many fathers don't want scars revealed for very private and valid reasons.
What exactly is 'all of this'?
All of which indicates a very compelling subject, and a well-constructed poem!