by

Being Dana… To My First Born,

You pluck at heart strings like a guitarist strumming perfect melodies.

You’ve kept your path through life hidden from all save a few.

Each note precisely tuned to tear away boundaries.

Choosing only to reach out when doing so benefits you.

My love for you always a tune to play.

My life still has armored standards forged like steel.

My heart, shattered glass in a pile lay.

The subtlety of your words crafted to evoke the “feels”.

We both fear the loss of the other.

I lay awake lamenting choices, yours and mine.

I’ve struggled with who I am, no longer dad, physically not mother.

You and I, always at odds, cannot combine.

Let's Do the Time Warp Again