Ivy on Fence

The ivy has grown about your gate.
Although I pass it each morning,
I lack that courage to disturb it
and prefer to think you a lax gardener,
instead of confirming your absence.


Night-Shift Dad

Father, my father
Was a man of shadows
Who woke in the day when I was away
And who never shared our evening time meals
While I dreamed, he slotted and sorted
While I explored, he was a boulder lying,
A hard form beneath the coverlet.
I never knew him
Until he was old and gray,
Lame and wanting so much
For someone to talk to.