The Wake

I watched it grow through the years
Like his temper and shame.
I thought maybe his pride was there
Hiding beneath the bulging waist.

It began youthfully slender;
He smiled a lot.

The accumulation of beer and failure
Began slowly to push at his belt,
At me.
I considered it was possibly my fault:
Before birth
My mother carried the burden
Of an enlarged belly.
Now maybe it is his turn.

He goes to the gym now,
Gradually trimming back my childhood.
Secretly
I hope my father’s gut
Never
Disappears.