I've another poem to share, based upon the prompt featured in David Bogomolny post. The theme is "The bittersweet, painful, or unsettling aspects of the past and its hold on the present."
With this theme in mind, I will share a childhood experience and then my poem.

Dad had both hands when I was a youngster. He was a hardworking farmer, who came home every evening covered in dirt and machinery grease. We children were his delight, and after he had his shower, he'd gather us together for games.
We loved one game in particular. Dad would pull out his handkerchief and make a mouse. We'd shriek with amazement as the mouse moved across his hand. I never understood how it moved - until adulthood.
This short, 30-second clip demonstrates how you can make a moving mouse.
Weeks later, Dad went back to the fields. He never spoke about the amputation or his limitations. And we seven children did not dare to bring up the topic. But Dad's decision to return to work forever imprinted on me how to face life's hurdles.
My poem ~
I hope you have a wonderful week. Stay warm! ❤️