Sometimes I wish I had a face of my own
Not that the one that I have is a bad one
It’s just that the one that I have is not my own
It is my father‘s face
As my jowls grow thicker
And my beard grows whiter
And the lines beneath my eyes crease deeper
And my usually lighter skin
Takes on his darker reddish brown magical hue
But it’s not just his face
It’s his gait his stride his shape
His political leanings
His social perspectives
His commitment to the community
His work for justice I realize that I have been co-opted
For it seems that he
Has shaped so much of what is me
And it is strange to see my father
Looking startled as I catch
An unexpected glimpse of him
As I’m walking by a mirror
And I’m startled to see him
Walking by at the same pace
With the same expression
That I think belongs to me
It is strange to see my father
Sitting in a square on the screen
As I’m in a meeting on Zoom
And say those words that I believe I’m saying
And relay thoughts that I believed I’m relaying
Words and thoughts I thought my own
But when I think about it
Those words and thoughts my own
Originated once with him
Sometimes I wish I had a face of my own
But I have to admit
It is kind of comforting
To know that though he’s gone
He’s still here
To see that he lives on in me,
To realize that others can
Find comfort in my face
Which is actually his face
And the older that I get
The more I know that
My expressions are his own
My face is something borrowed
It almost feels as if he left and said
“I leave this face to you
You do those things I do
You finish those battles I fought
You experience those things I never got to
You live that life for me”
Sometimes I wish I had a face of my own
And then I see my father‘s face smiling back at me
And then I feel his love radiating in that smile
And then I feel the sensation of his beard as I
stroke my own
And then I cherish
My squinty eyes
My furled brow
My hearty laugh
And then I realize
How thankful I am
That I do not have a face of my own
