My Dad Thinks I Think Too Much About Death

by Juliet Fox

My dad thinks I think too much
About death
But if the plane goes down
Like it did in my dreams

He would not
Be there to hug me
And say
“It’s not true”

He tried to describe
The self I would be
If the ungenerous monster
Took you from me

My pink furrowed brows
With long claws for toenails
And horns sprouted for ears
The steady stream of water

Where my eyes cannot be seen

My dad thinks I think too much
About death
But I say to him
“If the world was endless

And only you stayed-- I’d
Steady myself to
Not think
About grief”