Rotation

Like the moon that night, my father — a distant body, white and luminous. How small I was back then, looking up as if from dark earth. Distant, his body white and luminous, my father stood in the doorway. Looking up as if from dark earth, I saw him outlined in a scrim of light. My father stood in the doorway as if to watch over me as I dreamed. When I saw him outlined — a scrim of light — he was already waning, turning to go. Once, he watched over me as I dreamed. How small I was. Back then, he was already turning to go, waning like the moon that night — my father.