Forever you find
          your father
in other faces—

a balding head
          or beard enough
to send you following

for blocks after
          to make sure
you’re wrong, or buying 

some stranger a beer
          to share. Well, not
just one—and here,

among a world that mends
          only the large things,
let the shadow grow

upon your face
          till you feel
at home. It’s all

yours, this father
          you make 
each day, the one

you became when yours
          got yanked away. 
Take your place between

the men bowed
          at the bar, the beer
warming, glowing faint

as a heart: lit
          from within & just
a hint bitter.