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
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