Wednesday, October 5, 2016
Father, Father, where do you rest?
Haven’t seen you in awhile; will I?
You must’ve have aged? let me see your face someday
Or else I shall never see you again
Every night, the child is born, but no father
And the eyes must wet like the leaves with dew;
The year is eternal and the child must weep; they did
So did their memories with the morning’s hue.