adoptedwriter

You Shook Me

You took me.

Of all the ones you could have had,

you chose me and you were glad.

You wanted a girl. You wanted an ally.

You wanted to be happier and have someone to sit by.

You took me

To see The Jungle Book when I was seven,

Made chocolate fudge and I was in Heaven.

You showed me dancing to rhythm and blues;

I learned the steps standing on your shoes.

You took me

To Florida: The sun, the beach, the gulf and pool.

Hanging with you was always cool.

You lazing on a raft; me in my inner tube, holding your toes

In a floppy-brimmed hat; Zinc oxide on my nose.

You shook me.

You’d been drinking and not thinking.

Dinner was ruined; I was sassy, rebellious and made you upset.

It was only one time, and you felt regret.

Our relationship altered. I’ll never forget.

You looked at me

As we walked down the aisle.

Arm in arm you gave me a smile.

“Sunrise Sunset, Sunrise Sunset; swiftly flow the years.

One season following another; Laden with happiness and tears”.

You shook me.

As you gasped and rattled, wrapped in a fog of morphine.

A sight I was unprepared for seeing.

Trembling, tears, desolation, emptiness and isolation.

My fun yet complicated dad. You gave me everything you had,

And when you parted from this plane...

You shook me to the core again.

The quotation in this piece is from the musical Fiddler on the Roof.

Feb. 12th, 2021