Papa—

Awake before the sun

but after the Robins

have begun their songs

for the day.

Awake because I lay

in my thorny nest

of warmth—

Wondering if

you’d still enjoy

the Robin’s sing

knowing it’s the last Spring

you’d hear them —

and knowing

you won’t see

the sun make its journey

across the skyline

for you.

I wonder if you’re awake too—

 

And if you were, would you still go outside

to hear their sweet songs—

and watch the sun gently rise

over the horizon—

 

or I wonder,

If you’ve seen that enough.