Tuesday, March 12, 2013

On father by Martin Townsend

There is no limit on the number of times your father can come to life. … You may think that love is all that is left of him, but when he comes, he comes with all his winters, and all his wounds. Then, before you can touch him, he’s gone, leaving on your fingers a little more of his weariness, a little more of his love.
Martin Townsend, The Father I Had.

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