Common Ground

Once there was a chance

for you and I,

a chance that we could meet

on common ground,

perhaps find a small bit

of mutual understanding,

a place not too much me

and not too much you,

a place somewhere

in the middle,

but now that chance

is long gone,

time has grown short,

you are where you are

and I am where I am,

with too much space

in-between,

still we had some moments,

playing catch in the backyard,

fishing in Canada;

you were my dad

and I was your little boy.

I sometimes wish it could

have been different,

somehow better,

something more,

but it was good enough,

thank you dad.

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