Relations die a natural deathwhen there is nothing in common to talk
And smiles too. I stare on the walls
and at my children. Sullen.
And breathe out the fatigue of the day
And sit careless, facing the sea,
counting birds flying west.
For whom shall I rise, a full sky
when the sun sets
for a new space,
of fresh conversation.
For she looks for that father she never had.