You have always treated me well and kindly
And spoiled me with the love that might have been your mother’s
Before you were spirited away from a revolution
And became a beggar teacher with a young wife
And crossed the seas to skin your knuckles
Trying to become a chef where the demands cut
You raw to the blood beneath
And froze your heart to two wayward sons
One too slow and heartbreaking to watch
And the other one too clever
With a memory too long, holding grudges
But you have always treated me kindly
And I will embrace you and dot your wrinkled face
With kisses, because for all your faults
I love you