Becoming smaller....

With my hand held in his, as tight as always I remember
Secure yet so frail, my thoughts pour over
In this public space, where we become but cattle
Cheap and expendable, human no more
With my memories abundant
With mine eyes laden and full

I find myself once more, dwelling on moments forever lost
Tangible and self-tormented, knowing with certainty
Waiting on his words, on the smallest bit of him
They shall happen never
They shall not appear

His eyes tight shut, beaten and weary-boned
A lifetime of provision, with ne'er the slightest complaint
Feeling such impossibilities, that I may ever be like
I am made of him
I am become him

The effort of one single smile, etched deep in hurtful pose
And helpless questions reign, amid the silence of sufferance
Regression overload, the changeling of decades gone
He is now the child
He is helpless apparent

To do as he did before for me, I wouldst take his pain in place
Breathe his fear willingly, of the butcher and old time
Youthful sparkle blinks on and off, the wise begat the scared
In his beckoning mortality
In his quest for acceptance

I find myself often, searching within searching
Twisting the dance of denial, and with sad realisation
When all dwindles, and as all much less is heard
That sometimes the father changes
That sometimes the son becomes