Father

He grew up without one
Alive yet away
Catching breath was easy,
A ball, not really.
In Jonty he found
The Rhodes of life.
Puberty hits hard
But Rocky trained his fists
The grass of face grew thick and bold
Moustachey Roger backhand
Was the best a man could get
He learned to love in Casablanca
And to laugh in modern times
The pain never made him cry
Yet seeing father-son bond on screen would.
He was never alone
Yet hollow inside.
The mode of communication being
Whatsapp forwards and inspirational videos
The day father returned
His hands lay numb and face so calm
His last message read,
“Before you know it, they’ll be grown
You kiss goodnight to that baby
Every chance you get”