Shifting the Sun
Diana Der-Hovanessian
When your father dies, say the Irish,
you lose your umbrella against bad weather.
May his sun be your light, say the Armenians.
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When your father dies, say the Welsh,
you sink a foot deeper into the earth.
May you inherit his light, say the Armenians.
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When your father dies, say the Canadians,
you run out of excuses. May you inherit
his sun, say the Armenians.
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When your father dies, say the French,
you become your own father.
May you stand up in his light, say the Armenians.
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When your father dies, say the Indians,
he comes back as the thunder.
May you inherit his light, say the Armenians.
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When your father dies, say the Russians,
he takes your childhood with him.
May you inherit his light, say the Armenians.
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When your father dies, say the English,
you join his club you vowed you wouldn't.
May you inherit his sun, say the Armenians.
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When your father dies, say the Armenians,
your sun shifts forever.
And you walk in his light.
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I am an Armenian - I offer this poem to my friends Sherry, Elaine, and Julie, who each lost their father this month. May your path be illuminated by the light of his memory.