Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Father


You  are no longer new. Some say you are dead.
But when I look,
there you are
still alive, with me. Now.





Life's twists and turns
worked on you
making you 
who you were -
who you are; 
making me
who I am.



When your body
is dust,
Life still wins.  
I will remember.

Then, when my memory fades
turning to dust of its own
you will remain.
Generations wil be who they are
because you were
who you were.