Everyone has a father  —
but only some fathers
sow the seed
for their sons
to break into song.

Historians chronicle
the cave-in of civilizations.
I can see your decline —
see it with precision and pain.

Father, you want to hold
the space you held.
But, is it my fault, 
that your hands
now need me?

Sanjeev Sethi’s most recent collection of poetry is This Summer and That Summer (Bloomsbury, 2015). He has published two other volumes. His poems are in venues around the world:  Off the Coast, The Bitchin’ Kitsch, The Beatnik Cowboy, Futures Trading, Red wolf Journal, The Blue Mountain Review, Squawk Back, The Five-Two, W.I.S.H. Press, Easy Street, Literary Orphans, Mad Swirl, Zarf Poetry,New English Review, Your One Phone Call, Scarlet Leaf Review, The Ofi Press Magazine, Expound Magazine, Postcolonial Text, Otoliths,and elsewhere. He lives in Mumbai, India.