Dad

Dad

Dan Kingsbury

You do, you do,
You certainly still do, blue shoe
In which I have danced like a foot
For thirty years, in safety and comfort,
Being blessed every time I Achoo.

Dad, I’ve always emulated you.
Goodness knows you still breathe—
Shaped like light, a heart full of God,
Greek sculpture with great feet,
Majestic as a Michelangelo.

Yet not quite perfect in the Mediterranean
Where it’s beautiful beads of blue
bounce and roll off of you.
I still pray for you.
Oh, ti!

In the Italian tongue, in that seaside town
bathed in the radiant rays
Of the Sun, Sun, Sun.
The name of the town is not so common.
My Italian friend tells me

It’s unlike any other, much like you.
And I always was pretty sure where
Your foot, your root, were,
Because I always could talk to you—

Though it did show through:
like Pisa you had a lean,
You are after all just a man,

That crucifix, crucifix, of yours
Almost makes you a bit of a catholic.
Yes, more Aurelian than Machiavellian,
Your tongue loosed by that fine, fine wine,
You tried hard to tell it to me true.

So I tried to be much like you:
I’ve found a wonderful woman
And I think I’ll say, I do.
I’ll love her through and through,
Dad, just like you.

---

Dan Kingsbury
Professor

Dan is the New Testament professor at Asia Lutheran Seminary in Hong Kong. He has lived and served in East Asia for over 10 years. When not teaching or preaching he seeks to express his experience through poetry. This is his first poetry publication.

Photography by Carmen Laezza