rolling and holding
onto a used to be,
always unfolding
across a jealous sea.

your Father's scolding is
whipped waves roaring,
a howling wind that tore
the sound from
Hell's aching bell.

your Father's smile, bliss,
graceful, gentle, wide.
when it falls down
you can't hide.

rolling and holding
onto a used to be,
always unfolding
across a jealous sea.

© 1998

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