From the break of day to nightfall
important business men,
with facial declarations that are impossible to conceal
their defeat, desperation, and detachment
enter my father's cab.
They have different motives but
all share the same absence of knowledge.
None of them
can make out the grounds behind his loyalty,
can grasp why his devotion is bursting,
from his palms whirling the wheel
to the sole of his foot pressing the gas pedal.
If they can catch a glimpse of the image
within his gaze during a red light
they'd see my brother and I,
they'd see his world
the only reason why he's still pushing through
pushing through the hardships,
boulders, and moutains.
The same ones his passengers encounter
and the same ones he helps them overcome.
My gratitude for this man can't be represented enough
not in this poem,
but maybe in this life:
by dedicating myself to the people I care for
the same way.
From the break of day to nightfall.