Out of the womb, I wailed to the single Mother.Gums smacking. Fingers grasping; the searching.Father, where are you?Professor. Author. Poet. Working Man. Shadow Man.Visitation rights, I had you. Father, have I found you? You are across rivers,mountains, and valleys.I cannot reach you. Your books I have devoured.Hungry for the words of Father. My hands are empty and my mouth opens; the parting, it is empty except for words. I will find you in them. Poet Father. I will write to you.I will reach you in words. 


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