Through quiet night, soft yellow light falls on the stillness of rest.
Peace manifests as a clear brow, parted lips, warm breaths.
I gently stroke fine hair away to plant a kiss of love and care for this fragile soul.
Here the similarity ends.
I stroke one cheek, plump and soft.
I stroke another, sunken and stubbled.
In one body, growth and health.
In the other, deterioration and death.
My son debuts into life.
My father makes his slow exit.
I give and receive life,
Blessed in the middle,
Kissing foreheads.
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