FATHER’S SHOULDERS

Rode on them with a broken leg,

Hung on them in light play,

Father’s strong shoulders gave

A better ride, everyday,

The fair, the market, the streets,

I saw all from this safe place,

Carried at night, on them, as he prayed,

Then would blow breath on his half asleep son’s face,

From his shoulders I saw the world,

Which seemed too small and humble?

And when I came on ground,

This world began to crumble,

Funny, though equally painful,

Today, I am carrying my father

On my shoulders.

From My Poems: HERO