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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