If I Carry My Father — Marjorie Saiser
I hope it is a little more
Than color of hair
Or the dimple of cheekbones
If he’s ever here in the space I inhabit
The room I walk in
The boundaries and peripheries
I hope it’s some kindness he believed in
Living on in cell or bone
Maybe some word or action
Will float close to the surface
Withing my reach
Some good will rise when I need it
A hard dense insoluble shard
Will show up
And carry on.
