Light pours from my father’s eyes

To burn bright in my own

And my cold furnace flames

With clarity at last

–

I stoke the same boiling hunger

As I steam far from home

To a cold port of call

Beneath a silver star’s rising

–

His melody is afloat

Among the tides in my mind

And I chase its smoke trail

Beyond the swell of the horizon

–

Every fable he resounds

Is reborn where I stride

Down the paths of his youth

Or the alleyways I wander