poem for dad

in all things not spoken of
over the river, on the hill
as a naked man i go
to what shall a woman liken her beloved
are you alive?
in an old chamber softly lit
god
now that i have cooled to you
with the sunset
little park that i pass through
i had a dream and i awoke with it
i stood
i love my life, but not too well
do you think, my boy, when i put my arms around you