I know it's awful. I have lost my poetic voice these past years. But I had to write something. He was the first person in the world who said it was okay.
Ode to My Starman Father
In under-the-covers hush
I whispered my childhood secret
to your willing waiting ear,
where no one else could hear.
You did not beat me,
nor hurl acrid invective
to scald me with your steam.
You did not cast me out,
send me onward
into a world made harsh
by lonely hatred.
You whispered back,
be you, my little one,
my sweet.
You gave me breath
when others longed
to take it from me.
One more star now
in the evening sky,
one less Starman
in the morning glow.
I whisper now a thank you,
as you soar away from here,
a thank you both for my freedom,
and for your hazy cosmic jive…
Ode to My Starman Father
In under-the-covers hush
I whispered my childhood secret
to your willing waiting ear,
where no one else could hear.
You did not beat me,
nor hurl acrid invective
to scald me with your steam.
You did not cast me out,
send me onward
into a world made harsh
by lonely hatred.
You whispered back,
be you, my little one,
my sweet.
You gave me breath
when others longed
to take it from me.
One more star now
in the evening sky,
one less Starman
in the morning glow.
I whisper now a thank you,
as you soar away from here,
a thank you both for my freedom,
and for your hazy cosmic jive…