Where my father lives
Where my father lives, there are lots
of houses with long-reaching
gardens and fully-stocked kitchens.
There are board games, finger paintings
on the wall, paddling pools
with noodles and inflatable doughnuts.
Where my father lives, there are many
flowers begging to be
picked, there are gardeners
with watering cans in their favourite
colours. There are no smoke alarms or
locked doors. We will forget what belongs
where. Where my father lives, we will share
eternity as if its homemade
lemonade, ice-cold, electric and living
on our tongues. Where my father lives, 
where your father lives,
where our father lives,
there is room.