Father (Sun)

He was always so far,
his alimony merely manna,
rays raised in the depths
of his tumult.
I can almost touch him,
but the memory of him
still burns


my eyes, my hands, my
feet - especially
the eyes.


He'll puff up in death.
never the case in life;
he'll breathe his last breath
and we'll atomise.


Father, did you ever care?
Or were you merely there?
A father must always swear,
but you hold your breath,
a lungful of air;


and after 9 billion years,
puffing red,
you'll say you love us -
that love you'll swear -
but by then we'll all be dead.