Father you are not far from crime
I used to think you a better God
When I heard your footsteps pound
And shake the house still and child
But you are just as small as I
And timid you turn from door to door
And yell out wild in the void
You do not seem to see that we
Have so long packed up and gone
And left the door unlocked should you
One day see and follow through

But you are frown. You snore for long
And wake up to yell. You yell and
I think, is this all you will ever be
But no, my father is soft at dawn
When sun is blue and we are torn
Between memory and yearn
Nay, I say, with my shake of head
Father's his father's scared child
Give him a prayer, my God is kind
But then a gust of wind will pass
And fling at him his muttered curse
And we watch again the tempest rise
Above as flames about the sun
Then violin, whittle, wind and whale
Then generous lot with his love
He caresses so beautiful.

Porcelain becomes fear, but
There is no room for flight.
Father, you are not far from crime