Back To Me



I view him now

with eyes much older

his back to me

slumped in his chair

it is in the middle of the day

he sleeps sitting

silent, still,

I wonder

is he

...breathing

his voice is deeper

sounding

some tired

he awakens and mutters

something that makes sense

only to the dream world

he had been conversing with

only to the resolve of his

thoughts

and what would he do

over and again

and view mine

now

his eyes are older

blue and pooled

with a depth that sees

eternal expectancy

that deep lake reflecting up

that which can no longer be hidden

my father's eyes

I close mine

seeing what I have always known





Raine Les 1/14/2009

Beautiful work. I saw my grandfather in your words. Thank you for your great way with words. paint me another?

Beautiful writing...so simple and pure!!