Willa

I still hear me Da, laughing like a foghorn, long ago seems so far, happy he's not scarred, or left forlorn. I start the car, when he stamps the tar, he's like a newborn, a fallen star, I turn the key off, he looks war-torn, what about me Ma, like he's left the ark, he’s not even sure, where he's from, I can’t find a chart, to tell me the score', it’s gone too far, a trip to the park, an old shirt he’s worn, things fall apart, love has no form.