Father's Day

You’re lying in a hospital bed, Shaking, and so small it seems As if you’re the child and I, the Father I hold your hand as you once did mine And tell you how I want to live to be 100, And that you are getting closer and closer As if that will inspire you to shake off this Bitter process, the body’s reckoning with time Put off the inevitable and sad conclusion And somehow then, your smile appears Then you tell me how precious I am And become again the Father, and me, the child