In honor of Father’s Day, I’m sharing this poem from my memoir, A Girl Named Truth. It’s not an erasure poem in technical terms, but it’s, I think you will understand, still an erasure.
I don’t remember
saying Daddy, but
you wrote the word. Blue
letters on the back
of a photograph.
Daddy. Two salty
syllables dancing
on my tongue. I want
to know the child
held in the cradle
of your arms. See your
eyes mirrored in mine.
Remember the girl
who must have called you
this name. Daddy. Five
letters joined in song
by my children. Their
voices sing without
thirst. A rise of mist.
