I Borrowed My Father’s Circular Saw
When I was young
my arms could curve
all the way to my father’s smile,
and his warmth encircled me
till I saw my dreams.
Then I turned my back
as I built my life,
eclipsing him into darkness,
yet I always knew where he was –
my ebb and flow of life.
Now the dimming stars
foretell his numbered days.
There seems no time to ask him,
“Can we extend our ladders
and demolish these growing clouds?”