Your resilience
runs through the red
rivers and fjords of my body,
strong and all over.
Your eyes look at me
in my reflection,
beneath a forehead
wide and expressive.
Your smile crosses my face,
a desert sunset,
low and vermillion,
something to wait for.
Your temper thunders
from my mouth
when patience leaves me weary
and lacking.
Your laugh
scratches, chirps,
and twitters,
when I let seriousness go.
Your hands turn
the pages of my books,
worked and deliberate,
restless for what is next.
Your feet take me
through evergreen
forests--thick
and beautiful.
Your you is me.
3 comments:
Well Sunshine, you are a poet! Look at you, it is phenominal ... does he know you wrote that for him?
I love your poem! What a great way to honor your father today. You are a very good writer! I wish I had the ability to do that.
Thanks for the encouragement! You know we wanna-be's need that! :)
He knows.
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