December 2007

Relationships between fathers and daughters.

I’m told my father

is a godly man.

People speak to him through me,

pretending I’m a window,

a wrinkled string

linking dented tin cans.

Trying to remind me

he holds a great burden

on his shoulders.

Instead I remember

when I was seventeen.

He chafed

at my childish priorities.

I remember

he did not have words

for the disgust he felt and I

was not worthy of insult.

I wondered

if love walked in hand with understanding.

If holiness came complete with righteous anger.