When I’m walking somewhere
Dark and scary
I hold your hand

I think you are an angel
Or maybe Jesus
Or maybe pure energy
Or maybe my dad

I don’t hear a voice usually
Just feel a warm presence
That dissipates all fear

Okay, but when it’s icy
Then I hear,
“Get your hands out of your pockets!”

About the poem:

I had the greatest dad humanly possible. He is right beside me every step of the way. And though he died in 1997, his kindness still strengthens me.

This is a poem in my book With Open Arms available on Kindle and Amazon.

About the Author joangregerson

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