His old self

He looks like dad, when he sleeps.

He looks like he could wake up and be my dad.

Sometimes I watch him nap in his chair and pretend.

I pretend he’ll wake up and talk to me, like he used too.

I smile, thinking of him waking up as his old self.

Then tears run warm down a hopeful face.
And I miss my dad.

But I keep watching him sleep,

and pretend he will wake up his old self.