PAPA, REMEMBER ME?

Do you remember me?
I am the little girl
who sat upon your knee.
You combed my golden hair
and called me "honeybee."
Papa, do you remember me?

I looked into his faded eyes
behind the vacant stare
and tried to find the loving man
I knew had once lived there.
There was no recognition,
no warmth, no, not a word.
There was no inclination
that he had even heard.

I put my arms around him,
his shoulders gaunt and thin,
and prayed to God in heaven
that Papa would let me in.
But hope was quickly fading
and I held him close in fear.
Then behind his faded eyes
slipped a single salty tear.

Do you remember me?
Papa, I'm the little girl
who sat upon your knee.
You combed my golden hair
and called me your "honeybee."
Papa, do you remember me?

© 2018  Evelyn B. Ryan