My Father Never Spoke of Dreams

By John I. Blair

My father never spoke of dreams.

Was his sleep seamless,
His life without regret?

Or were his dreams
The kind he couldn’t share,
Thought I wouldn’t understand?

I hope with all my heart
He underestimated me;
Hope he could have told me,
If not then, when I was young,

Then now, when it’s too late
For him,
But not too late for me.

©2010 John I. Blair