If I am repaired, can we meet again for the first time, in all of the places I have feared to go, and then, again, in all of the places I will have forgotten, if I am repaired?



Wednesday, January 11, 2012

On My Father's Birthday


If you ever wonder,
                                               I think of you—
                                               three, four times a day—
                                               whenever I tie my shoelaces,
                                               or any square knot.
                                               ‘Over under, under over,'
                                               you said,
                                               again and again,
                                               until we got it right.

                                               I think of you.
                                               If you ever wonder.


  1. Awww, I could have written this post myself, well except the over under, over under bit...
    I think of my dad everyday, I hear his voice, I say the things he used to say.
    They are always a part of our lives, it's a good thing ;)

  2. Beautiful and sensitive.

    ... what a super little car... and crazy eyelashes!

  3. what is it in me that breaks with this? the photograph, yes, (how young your father is here!) and the simplicity of the weave between the two of you, between men. i am obviously on the outside of being a man, but when i witness this weave, i find it an almost unbearable pain, an exquisite pain.

    thank you for this poem.


  4. So touching and sensitive. A thoughtful piece that I really enjoyed. Simple, yet powerful.


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