The love of my father was boxing seeing my father slicing The wind with his bare hands Shadow boxing by his lonesome Like if he was fighting the wind The wind was his sparring partner the sounds of his fists cutting through the air I saw the violence and art my dear father moves slower After many decades his punches have lost its sound and his movement has lost rhythm of time the wind has beaten him over the years it has taken my father all he’s had to fight His last fight Even the wind has taken the last wind out of him