I Miss Those Days

I miss those days.

Those exciting days,
when you go by eight
and return by four
to be greeted by our innocent smile,
tiny racing legs,
short outstretched arms,
small voices screaming ‘daddy, daddy’
and warm embrace
that only your legs received.

I miss those days

Those other days
When you still go by eight
But return before four
And unprepared,
we scamper for order
at the sound of your steps,
or your voice,
or your car,
or the gate –
Whichever sends the first signal
and makes us tremble:
‘daddy is back, daddy is back!’

I miss those days

I miss those days.

Get your FREE copy of my inspirational poetry chapbook, When I Became a Manhere

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