Poetry Corner Monday

Two Halves
 -Gardner McFall

Half of me bore a suspicion
the other half denied, trying
to loosen it like a knot in a chain,

a suspicion as black as the tarmac
my father crossed to his fighter jet.
The world would be impossible

without him, half of me thought,
but the inkling, once sprouted, started
to spread like bamboo, cluttering

and choking the grassy bank
until it becomes a landscape, a fact.
Why think of this now?

half of me asks, craving knowledge.
The other half draws a blank.