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Wednesday 3 September 2014

My father who is in another world

I don’t know about you
but I’ve cried
in secret when I could
and at times tears came too fast
to run or hide;
I don’t know about you
but I think you were stronger
I don’t know about you,
maybe you could swallow your heart
and suck back your eyes
or do whatever it was
so I could never see
not even for a moment
regret or remorse
sorrow for what you’ve done
or could not do or say,
I don’t know about you,
but if we talk temperature
no tears as hot have I known
than those marked ‘child’
for I’m father
much more than child, lover, friend
or citizen;
I don’t know about you
but maybe half a century
is too short a time
to know or see,
I don’t know about you
and your father,
and if you’ve thought this way
and wondered,
but for now
I will err on the side of hope
and worship for all the tears
I’ve never seen you cry
or for the distance
that makes for happy drought.  

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