Via rail

In the belly of an electric snake
Twists of Canada, edges of wild,
We sit.

My beloved father sleeps
Age slipping from his face -
Smoothed lines -
He's letting go of me; his little girl

Light Carmel hair shining in the sun
Pretending to shoot a canon.

My protector, supporter, guide.
Every decision since he was twenty three
Has been for me.

Every hour of work -of commute -
Something I can never return, payback, deserve.

I have his humor and his brother's eyes
His easy way with people and his giving heart

And he has my love, my debts, my prayers.

He is too far away Beside me and asleep. What will I do at 6:50 September 3rd when his plane leaves and I'm still here?