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