To a Father who Never Was

I hate it when they talk about you.
I hate it when they don't talk about you.
I hate it when the confused five year old reappears.
I hate it when her shadow on its own disappears.
I hate to say that the love is gone.
I hate not saying that love never won.
I hate to find answers strung on the clothesline.
I hate to stumble over questions only to lose my shine.
I hate to cower in the arms of a lover.
I hate to share my first love story never got over.