My father’s pale eyes
look out from the plastic chair
that he is trapped in
so he won’t fall.
“I thought you were dead.”
He says to me.
He says to me.
time has left him
but it takes me
to a memory
of a little girl grabbing
my Dad’s knees
with relief.
“I thought you were dead,”
she says to him.
hey i’m in your poem!
x