I caught a glimpse of myself in
the mirror, and I saw my father;
not the one who raised me, but my real
parent, my biological father.
My mother vanished when I was small.
She ran away from the family,
joined the Army, signal corps,
disappeared into Australia.
My father was unable to cope,
so a quiet transfer took place,
a private adoption. I was too
young to remember any of this.
My father kept trying, two more
failed marriages. He must have reached
his limit, as he turned on the gas
one day and laid himself down to die.
And now I look at myself, and
I see him looking back at me.
I never knew him, I only have a
photograph. And this reflection.
Paul Ilechko was born in England but has lived much of his life in the USA. He currently lives in Lambertville, NJ with his girlfriend and a cat. Paul has had poetry published and/or accepted recently by Third Wednesday, Sick Lit Magazine, Muddy River Poetry Review, MockingHeart Review and The Peacock Journal, among others.