Sunday, November 28, 2021

I Know Now by Ann Christine Tabaka

I know now,
     why my father drank.

To quench the flames of sin.

To dull the pain of failure. 

To forget who he was.

I feel his suffering with every sip,
    every gulp,
        every glass,
as the lights begin to dim.

The love he never knew,
    the love he could never give.

I follow in his broken footsteps,
    all the way to hell. 

Shattered glass along the trail.
    Blood-stained tears wash away transgressions.

He looked for salvation in the bottle,
though it took him in the end.

I know now,
     why my father drank.




Ann Christine Tabaka was nominated for the 2017 Pushcart Prize in Poetry. She is the winner of Spillwords Press 2020 Publication of the Year, her bio is featured in the “Who’s Who of Emerging Writers 2020 and 2021,” published by Sweetycat Press. She is the author of 13 poetry books. lives in Delaware, USA. She loves gardening and cooking.  Chris lives with her husband and four cats. Her most recent credits are: Sparks of Calliope; The Closed Eye Open, Poetic Sun, Tangled Locks Journal, Wild Roof Journal, The American Writers Review, The Scribe Magazine, The Phoenix, Burningword Literary Journal, Muddy River Poetry Review, The Silver Blade, Pomona Valley Review, West Texas Literary Review, The Hungry Chimera, Sheila-Na-Gig, Fourth & Sycamore.
*(a complete list of publications is available upon request)
                                                                    

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