my father, he dreams a lot.
i dream of you.
to him the farewell once was
a farewell twice, thrice until each
day is a long talk of goodbyes.
i say hello to you.
he says goodbye to her.

we both stare at the same sea.
dark amber in our hands.
he sees the sea and dreams of death,
and empty room and dark stairs, 
of sisters and a brother, of sons 
and daughters, and grandchildren,
he sees the sea but never her.
i look at the sea and i see you
riding the waves.

and though my head spins
i'll stay with him a little longer.
and in a little while, he will ask me
if the night is over for both of us.
if the beer was enough or should
he order more for two.
(always for two.)

order more, i'll say.
order more for us.
knowing well that the last thing
he would want was to sleep.
for sleep was dream,
and my father, he dreams a lot.

even though only in sleep
will i come to you,
you'll understand.