the taxi driver
cruising in a black Peugeot
late night on the road

the sky is open
on him like a car window
i wait for him on

the roof top at home
counting the stars with my hand
this night is so cold

the taxi driver
who owns the classic Peugeot
is my father

my phone rings
while i count the stars
an anonymous call

about a crash
his body smashed a wall
his lip cut

his leg wounded
and i keep his pain
my eyes close

at the hospital
while waiting for the doctors
for any news

the taxi driver
whose body is injured now
how can i help you?

dressed in a white gown
a drip attached to his arm
he sleeps like a child

when he was away
we were an ocean apart
this night was so cold