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Maybe

By , Ashburnham, MA
She wonders what he’s thinking,
When the word daughter just comes up.
Does he start to feel the guilt?
Or does he poor more liquor in his cup?

When he looks up to the sky,
Does he see his child’s face?
Or does he stare at the dark clouds
And shut his windows just in case?

When it’s finally the third
Of that chilly month November,
Does he know that it’s her birthday?
Or does his brain just not remember?

And if he ever does
Think about his baby,
The thought of her forgiving
For now is just a maybe.





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