Daddy

Every morning Dad comes home Exhausted and shattered by his work The money wouldn’t be asked more. Fumblingly his hands in the kitchen Quick cooking for breakfast as dinner, Quick eating but no one asking for. Loneliness in a cramped space Tears suspended in reddish eyes. He wonders why he is here. American life, his dream used to be. Gently Dad stirs up his child, In his usual intense voice. Grumpy and sluggish, she arises Busy grooming hair and eye lining Scolding back in foreign English “Dad I missed the school bus”. Teenagers the difficult age To raise and love in a blunt place Where respect is only in retrospect, And it is outdated too.