In the early morning
when the fires are roaring slowly
the dreams that come to me
can be born of something now
and I see that its my father
whose awake.
His light is wove within the winds
and deeds of all my brothers
and I can see his smiling face
behind the fabric of my life.
gallagher
17 september 75
— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —