My Father Dreams
After Li Young Lee
by Laura Peña
Tonight my father with heavy steps, walks
up the stairs in his house and lays the artificial
Christmas tree down in the hall. Did he know
that would be his last Christmas? If he had
known would he have put the tree away?
Would he have spared my mother that extra bit of work?
His love for me spills from his eyes when I
catch him looking at me. At this hour what he
is dreaming is his last dream and what my
mother is doing is sleeping next to him.
Someone tell him my mother will mourn
him the rest of her days.
My mother rubs the long scar on my father’s chest
and mentally prepares a list of chores for the next day.
She will call me early in the morning, make coffee
so it will be ready when I get there. We will ask my father
if he wants to go with us to the new exhibit at the museum
of fine arts. His love for us is like his patience. At this hour
what he is dreaming and what he is living are his final hours.
Someone tell him my mother will mourn
him the rest of her days.
The EMT, professional yet compassionate, keeps
talking. His large gentle hands press on our shoulders
steadying our terrified hearts saying a prayer
like he has had to do countless times at car crashes,
fire ravaged homes, and shootings. His love for us
at that moment feels like a warm compress. At this hour
what my father dreams is peace and sadness as the medics
carry his body out of the house.
Someone tell him my mother will mourn
him the rest of her days.
up the stairs in his house and lays the artificial
Christmas tree down in the hall. Did he know
that would be his last Christmas? If he had
known would he have put the tree away?
Would he have spared my mother that extra bit of work?
His love for me spills from his eyes when I
catch him looking at me. At this hour what he
is dreaming is his last dream and what my
mother is doing is sleeping next to him.
Someone tell him my mother will mourn
him the rest of her days.
My mother rubs the long scar on my father’s chest
and mentally prepares a list of chores for the next day.
She will call me early in the morning, make coffee
so it will be ready when I get there. We will ask my father
if he wants to go with us to the new exhibit at the museum
of fine arts. His love for us is like his patience. At this hour
what he is dreaming and what he is living are his final hours.
Someone tell him my mother will mourn
him the rest of her days.
The EMT, professional yet compassionate, keeps
talking. His large gentle hands press on our shoulders
steadying our terrified hearts saying a prayer
like he has had to do countless times at car crashes,
fire ravaged homes, and shootings. His love for us
at that moment feels like a warm compress. At this hour
what my father dreams is peace and sadness as the medics
carry his body out of the house.
Someone tell him my mother will mourn
him the rest of her days.
Laura Peña was born and raised in Houston, Texas. She holds a BA in English Literature and an MA in Education. She is a bilingual elementary school teacher. She has been published in di-vêrsé-city, Boundless, Houston Poetry Fest anthology, The Bayou Review, Harbinger Asylum, Illya’s Honey, The Red River Review, and The Texas Poetry Calendar. Laura is a member of Gulf Coast Poets, The Poetry Society of Texas, Academy of American Poets, and the critique group Poetry Works Workshops. Laura organizes Poetry Out of Bounds each year which is the official kick-off event for Houston Poetry Fest.
