Father and Son

 

                         He wrinkled his nose,

                         His voice subdued.

                         We talked in circles,

                         Stalked each other warily,

                         Our defenses up.

                         Well, two can play the game.

                         Stand up straight, don't slouch,

                         Keep the bloodlines flowing

                         (Inside screaming, I am me).

                         We moved off slowly,

                         Two strangers in the dusk,

                         His back towards me,

                         And then, he turned

                         In an old familiar way,

                         And phoenix-like, rising

                         From the ashes of despair,

                         I saw my father, not my son.