My Father Would Wake & Walk

In the middle of the night
Down the hall Down the stairs

Without so much as a firefly
Or a streetlight from outside
To guide him in pure darkness

Even then he was preparing
To become someone else
The shadow that slides through glass
The word Night inside an ink pen

How could I stop his shadow
From growing large as that house
Solid as granite
Turning to the color of earth
Under a blizzard of Omaha ice