father planted a mixture
of melodies within my voice
& asked me to sing him a tune
his father etched on his tongue
(the night his father’s voice became his).
he said it sounds like the waters under the bridge
(where mother was buried)
“the low note should give ripples
of dirges. of pain. of brokenness.
make sure you stretch it along
its base line & finish it off
father taught me how
to make melodies with my voice
echoing the memories of mother
till his voice became mine.