Gun That Weighed A Ton (haiku tercets)

Once, my father’s gun
was proferred open-handed
as proof of his love.

He sat naked, wet,
at the edge of the bed, said,
“I didn’t, for you.”

I felt horrible
that I was keeping him dead
amongst the living.

“If we’re being realistic about what an end goal should be, creating something with no ambition other than to get something off our chest might be the purest thing anyone could aim for.”

— Jeff Tweedy / How to Write One Song