doubts

years ago my father disowned me
because i dared to change my faith.
not that he was particularly religious.
it was more about what others would
say, all this provincial mentality.

in the end, he died in solitude, and i
prefer de rerum natura over sacred
texts. but i too seem destined to die
alone, as all my classical education
and seemingly broad intellectual
horizons have not prevented me
from alienating my rebellious son.

a friend advised me to give him time.
but is there time to give? the carmine
stains on the silk handkerchief raise
doubts whether they are mine or my
father’s.

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