The ice is melting, my father.
Chromatic scratches and guano
streak this coop; I’m half-chicken, I’m bony, turning blue. Remember among the asters as a little boy you played black bear
to my salmon in that leafy river; caught me on your big head, you bore
me dizzy, drunk as a lord on your shoulders.
I feel your eyes like a generation
fall on me, such tremendous admiration.
No, it’s not too much to ask in our mutual darkness.
So, my head to yours I incline: your want is greater than mine.