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Written to me by my father. If I could ever be as good as he, I would be great. |
Friend of Our Light (Written to me by my father...thank you, dad.) A thousand nights of love, now I'm alone parentless at home dreaming the seen and the unsaid. Sleep by day is bested by the frivolity and fun of being twenty-eight, liberated, and no longer bottle fed. Age is moving lullabyes of makeshift romance. A babysitted child of chance, suddenly I am saved from bedlam by your return to an infant's honeymoon, over the spillway past the dam. Waking I reach for midnight words to say... praising the caring way you cuddle me. With the poetry of a rocking cradle, you start my day patron of the nap and friend of our light as eternity. I am the lonely sibling of a loving couplet. You are the surrogate of rhythms I can not forget. |