Poem for my father, in which he takes pictures, smiles, and wraps cables (poorly)
by Brandon Gregory

You were great, you tell me
as I wrap my cables
and unplug my guitar.

I know you heard each song
and even took pictures,
but still don't believe it

after all the soccer
games you skipped, after you
missed my graduation.

You seem like a father,
but not mine. Mine is an
entity which I have

perceived but never known,
to whom I seem a son,
but not his. Now, you are

a man struggling with
how he has become a
father and I'm a son

trying to find out where
I have come from. That's why
we're both smiling the same

nervous smile. The room clears
slowly, leaving just you,
me, and our nervous smiles.

You grab a cable and
start to wrap it (poorly),
and I'm glad to have you,

just like when I was six,
and yours was the only
smile I ever knew.


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