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27 April 2006


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Very touching


Parents and Children,
How much of who we are,
they are, too
All the fears they have
for us, all the hopes
We have for them
as well.

Peace to you and to the memory of your dear Dad.


You, Ken, may be a dear -- but my father was, most definately, not.


Usually your poems seem just the right length, but this one feels like the beginning of something longer - maybe quite a bit longer. I guess because it raises so many questions. And the opening lines have that vatic sound of the long poem about them...

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