1985

In 1985
Stephanie was nine,
when her father,
whom she had not seen 
since she was an infant,  
arrived in a limousine
to glad-hand her
around the town,
and dazzle her with how life could be
outside our little house,
with its shortage of food
but abundance of love and laughter.

Like a comet
he hit her solid little world head-on
and rocked its foundation,
making her wonder
when he left town
(walking, since he had blown all his money
on the dazzle, and taking back the $50
he had given her)
what life with a dad
always around might be,
and why she wasnt enough
to make him stay.

posted for Alan's prompt: 1985 at Poetry Jam. Pick any year, I have more material than I can live long enough to write, hee hee.